Today, the day before Easter, is the last day of what’s called Holy Week, which starts with Palm Sunday. There are several holy days that are often observed this week, which mark the events that lead to Jesus’ death, as told in the gospel stories.
In my sermon on Palm Sunday I reminded folks that the gospels are not accurate history, but good stories proclaiming the good news that Jesus brought to share. Put simply, these symbolic stories are meant to remind us that we are all part of God’s love. As we Universalists would proclaim, “Nobody left behind.” Rob Bell says Jesus came to remind us that we are already at the party; the realm of the Holy is here and now.
I’m someone who needs to be in Holy Week while it’s here; because it helps me to get ready for Easter. I find I can’t fully enter the light and gladness of Easter without spending time in the shadows; meditating on the painful stories of how Jesus was betrayed, mocked, tortured, and killed. We hold a three hour vigil in our sanctuary on Good Friday, during which we read this telling from the Gospel of Mark. This photo is from the vigil held yesterday.
In these days I keep remembering an anthem our choir sang about a month ago. One of the many things I love about our choir director Lisa Zaleski is the wonderful pieces she picks for our choir to sing. They often inspire my preaching, and inform my spiritual life, and I am so very grateful for what Lisa brings to our church and worship! The song I’ve been carrying in my heart this week is based on a well-known line from Psalm 46, and I just love how composer Karen Marrolli opens up this one line:
Be still and know that I am God; let peace embrace your heart,
Be still and know that I am God; let fear and anguish now depart.
Though the earthquakes rage; though the tempests roll,
though the storms conspire to destroy,
Be still and know that I am God; the earth shall rise again in joy.
You can listen to a recording of “Be Still” here. Singing it, often in my car, has helped me to stay in Holy Week, even as I hold out hope that, even with all its pain, suffering, and trouble, “the earth shall rise again in joy.”
That’s the promise of these days. And it’s up to us to live into this promise, and make it real. Happy almost Easter, friends.