Holy Week: A Code for Fasting, Not Feasting — And How It Changed My Life

For most of my life, I believed Holy Week — the Last Supper, Crucifixion, Entombment, and Resurrection — was meant to be commemorated with gatherings, feasts, and celebration.

But this year, something inside me stirred. I didn’t plan it. I wasn’t following a church, a doctrine, or a trend.

I was simply drawn to fast.

On Thursday — the day of the Last Supper — I took my final bite. Not as a performance. Not as discipline. It was instinctive, almost as if something ancient within me was remembering.

Then came Friday — the Crucifixion. I could feel a part of me dying. Not physically — but emotionally, spiritually. The cravings, the old patterns, the noise.

A code to rethink what we've been taught and start learning?

Saturday — the Entombment — was stillness. I rested. I surrendered. I let silence fill the space where appetite used to live.

Then came Sunday — Resurrection.

And this wasn’t just any Sunday.

It was April 20. My birthday.

I didn’t wake up craving cake or breakfast or praise.I woke up with a new belief. A knowing. A clarity I can’t fully explain in words — but I can say this much:

I was reborn.

And if I needed confirmation that something sacred had taken place… it arrived swiftly.

On April 21 — the very next day — Pope Gregory died.

To me, it was more than coincidence. It was a sign. A passing of an old order. A message whispering:

You don’t need a priest to confirm your transformation. You lived it.

The True Code of Holy Week

Look at the sequence:

• Last Supper (Thursday): Awareness and the Final nourishment before the fast.

• Crucifixion (Friday): The death of what no longer serves.

• Entombment (Saturday): Stillness. Integration. Rest.

• Resurrection (Sunday): Rebirth. Renewal. A new identity.

This isn’t just history.

It’s alchemy. A 4-day fast encoded into scripture. Not a command to feast — but an invitation to purify.

Maybe Easter — and even Christmas — were never meant to be about filling ourselves.

Maybe they were always calling us to empty.

I share this not to preach, but to offer a possibility:

What if the greatest spiritual experiences aren’t found in church… but in the quiet courage to stop eating long enough to hear your soul speak?

This Holy Week, I didn’t find religion.

I found resurrection.

Bill