I am certainly not the first to note that Holy Week in the midst of Covacalypse 2020 is a bit surreal. We want and we will walk the journey that follows in the footsteps of Jesus: from Palm Sunday “Hosannas” to sacred remembrance in the Upper Room, from shouts of “Crucify!” to an empty tomb. So Holy Week this year is exactly the same as it has always been, only completely different.
More poignant will be our Maundy Thursday remembrance that celebrates our community, as we long to be together again, embracing one another in whatever ways will be appropriate as our new normal emerges. With greater clarity of our fundamental interconnectedness as humanity, we will remember Jesus’ new command: Love one another.
More profound will be our Good Friday immersion into the sin and brokenness of this world—sin that endangers and destroys, brokenness whose folly overwhelms medical systems and cripples public health. When we hear Jesus’ cry, “It is finished!” how many of us will connect it to current events and wonder, “When that will be?”
More problematic will be our Easter celebrations that long for the light and airy beauty of lilies and little girls in bright dresses and little boys in bow ties as together we sing “Jesus Christ is Risen today! Alleluia!” Though we might note the congruence between the empty tomb and our empty churches, and though we might be have a deeper appreciation for the angel’s words, “He is not here…He is going on ahead of you…Go, tell his disciples,” these are cold comforts from the warmth of our homes, which feels weird—it’s like we’re in exile in our own homes.
This is not the first time the people of God have been in exile. Beginning with Abraham and Sarah leaving their home in Ur, to Joseph bringing his brothers and his father Isaac to Egypt, to the Israelites being shackled and drug to Assyria, to the Judeans being forced into Babylon, to the Jews of Jesus’ day under Roman rule, to the earliest Christians fleeing to Antioch to avoid persecution, God’s people have discovered the Psalmist’s truth:
Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast. (Psalm 139)
The Holy One in whom we have put our trust will not begin to fail us on our about April 9, 2020 but will be with us in our journeys, wherever we go: to our couch and to our kitchen, to our porch and to our patios. If we go to the bedroom, the Lord is there. If we hide from family in the bathroom, the Lord is there. If we seek human contact in a grocery store, even there God’s hand will guide us, God’s right hand will hold us fast.
So, yeah, Holy Week this year is exactly the same, only completely different. Let’s make the best of it and remember both who we are and also, more importantly, whose we are.
Grace out,
Brad Munroe
P.S. Join me in celebrating Easter with ALL Presbyterians from around the nation (and perhaps the world) by logging into the church-wide Easter service led by Diane Moffett, Cindy Kohlmann, and J. Herbert Nelson (https://www.pcusa.org/easter-worship-service/). This is a BOTH/AND invitation: attend BOTH your local congregation’s Easter service AND our church-wide service. What? Do you have somewhere else you need to be?
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