It is Wednesday of Holy Week, not a day in this holiest of weeks that garners much attention. Some Christian traditions have regarded it as "Spy Wednesday", since it is the day on which scripture suggests Judas Iscariot determined to betray Jesus for thirty pieces of silver.

Others have called it "Silent Wednesday", alluding to the fact that we don't really know much about what happened on that day for Jesus and his disciples.

But for most of us in the mainline Protestant tradition this moment is simply one of those nondescript days between the jubilation of Palm Sunday and the betrayal, crucifixion, and joy of all that would come after it. It is a day seemingly motionless and without fanfare, a day when we sit waiting for all that comes next. We are "in between".