Wednesday, April 12, 2028
Liturgical Color: Violet
Palm Sunday
Almighty and everlasting God, in your tender love for us you sent your Son our Savior Jesus Christ to take upon himself our nature, and to suffer death upon the Cross, giving us the example of his great humility: Mercifully grant that we may walk in the way of his suffering, and come to share in his resurrection; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
Holy Week
Through Jesus Christ our Lord. For our sins he was lifted high upon the Cross, that he might draw the whole world to himself; and by his suffering and death he became the author of eternal salvation for all who put their trust in him.
Most liturgical texts are from the Book of Common Prayer (2019) of the Anglican Church in North America.
The New Coverdale Psalter, © 2019 by the Anglican Church in North America. Used by permission.
Red Letter Day
Missionary to Burma
Anglican Commemoration
Known as Spy Wednesday, recalling Judas Iscariot's agreement to betray Jesus. The last ordinary day before the Triduum begins at sundown on Thursday.
Wednesday of Holy Week carries the informal name 'Spy Wednesday' — a medieval English designation recalling Judas Iscariot's agreement to betray Jesus to the chief priests (Matthew 26:14–16, Mark 14:10–11, Luke 22:3–6). The Synoptic Gospels place this arrangement two days before Passover, and the tradition of associating Wednesday with Judas's treachery is attested from at least the early medieval period. In the Byzantine tradition, this day is called 'Holy and Great Wednesday' and is associated with the anointing at Bethany (Matthew 26:6–13), where the woman's lavish devotion stands in deliberate contrast to Judas's calculating betrayal — the one pouring out costly nard, the other selling his Master for thirty pieces of silver. The Western lectionary tradition has varied over the centuries in which Gospel passage it assigns: some years emphasizing the anointing, others the conspiracy. The day also holds typological significance as the last 'ordinary' day before the Triduum begins at sundown on Thursday. In the early Church, Wednesday and Friday were already established as station days — days of fasting and prayer — which gave Wednesday of Holy Week a natural intensification of the regular Wednesday fast. The overlap with Passover preparation in Jesus's own time adds a further layer: as the Jewish community prepared lambs for slaughter, the Lamb of God was being handed over by one of his own.
The liturgical observance of Wednesday in Holy Week has been shaped by two parallel streams. In the East, the emphasis falls heavily on the anointing at Bethany and the contrast between devotion and betrayal; Byzantine hymnography for this day is rich with references to 'the sinful woman' who recognized Christ while Judas did not. In the West, the medieval tradition gave the day its popular name 'Spy Wednesday,' and the focus shifted more toward the conspiracy narrative. The BCP 2019 places this day within the protected days of Holy Week — no other observance can displace its propers. When the Annunciation (March 25) falls during Holy Week, it is transferred, illustrating the absolute liturgical precedence of these days. Some parishes observe Tenebrae services on Wednesday evening as anticipatory preparation for the Triduum, though the BCP itself assigns the principal Tenebrae elements to Maundy Thursday. The day serves as a hinge between the teaching ministry of Holy Week's earlier days (when Jesus taught in the Temple) and the Passion narrative that begins in earnest at the Last Supper.
Adoniram Judson was the first American Protestant foreign missionary, sent to Burma in 1812 under the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions. Converting to Baptist convictions during the voyage, he spent nearly four decades in Burma translating the entire Bible into Burmese, planting churches among the Burmese and Karen peoples, and enduring imprisonment, repeated bereavement, and illness with unflinching resolve. His Burmese Bible remained the standard translation into the twentieth century, and the Karen church he helped form became one of the most vital Baptist communities in Asia.
Adoniram Judson was born on August 9, 1788, in Malden, Massachusetts, the son of a Congregational minister. He graduated from Brown University in 1807 and Andover Theological Seminary in 1810, where he joined a small circle of students committed to foreign mission. In 1812 he was among the first missionaries commissioned by the newly formed American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, sailing for India with his wife Ann Hasseltine — herself a woman of remarkable conviction, who had weighed the cost of the mission in published correspondence before agreeing to marry him and leave everything familiar behind.
During the voyage, Judson studied the Greek New Testament and the Baptist arguments for believer's baptism. By the time the ship reached Calcutta, he and Ann had become convinced Baptists — a rupture with the ABCFM that left them without institutional support but opened the door to what would become the American Baptist Foreign Mission Society.
Unable to remain in British India under East India Company restrictions, Judson settled in Rangoon, Burma, in 1813. Progress was painfully slow: six years of sustained effort yielded his first Burmese convert. But steady translation work and friendship with the Karen people eventually produced growing communities of faith.
The First Anglo-Burmese War (1824–1826) brought catastrophe. Judson was arrested as a suspected British spy and held for twenty-one months in the death prison at Ava under brutal conditions — bound in leg irons, crowded with other prisoners, denied adequate food. Ann worked ceaselessly for his release, personally negotiating with Burmese officials, smuggling food and medicine into the prison, and caring for their newborn daughter — all while gravely ill herself. He survived; she died in 1826, months after the peace was concluded. Their infant daughter Maria died the following year.
Judson pressed on. He completed his translation of the entire Bible into Burmese in 1834. That same year he married Sarah Hall Boardman, the widow of a fellow missionary who had remained in Burma after her first husband's death rather than return to America — a choice that reflected the same unflinching commitment that had marked Ann. Sarah became a gifted translator in her own right, working in Burmese and several Karen dialects, before her health failed. She died in 1845 on a voyage home, leaving Judson with several young children.
He also compiled a comprehensive Burmese-English dictionary, finished posthumously by his colleagues. Both translation projects required mastering a tonal language without any prior translation infrastructure. The Burmese Bible became the foundation of an indigenous Christian literature and remained the standard text well into the twentieth century.
In 1846 Judson married Emily Chubbuck, a successful American author who gave up her literary career to join him in Burma — a sacrifice that drew public attention and some criticism, but which she undertook with clear-eyed resolve. His health, broken by the years of imprisonment, never fully recovered. He died at sea on April 12, 1850, on a voyage taken for his health, and was buried in the Indian Ocean. He had served in Burma for thirty-seven years.
Judson's commemoration in St. Bernard's Breviary signals an ecumenical acknowledgment: he was a Baptist, and his inclusion among the Breviary's commemorations recognizes missionary faithfulness across denominational lines. The tradition emphasizes his endurance — imprisonment, repeated bereavement, chronic illness — as a kind of suffering-witness that parallels martyrdom without its death. Francis Wayland's near-contemporary memoir (1853), based on extensive primary sources, established the interpretive frame within which Judson has been remembered: the persevering pioneer whose pain was inseparable from his productivity. The story of Ann Judson's heroic advocacy during his imprisonment became central to the American missionary imagination and is transmitted as a companion tradition to his own. Later hagiography has occasionally sentimentalized the narrative; the documentary record — his own letters and the Wayland memoir — supports a more austere portrait of a man who endured, translated, and died at his post. His Burmese Bible is treated in the tradition as his monument, the enduring fruit of his suffering.