Holy Week in Uncertain Times
If things were “normal” today would bring a burst of Hosannas. The Palm Parade, the first event of Holy Week. It fools you. You think with all those praises, those palm branches waving, those cloths on the road that Jesus travels on a donkey as a man of peace, that the tide has turned. Our long weeks of Lent are over. It is a small, but important respite on a road that will get worse before it gets better.
If things were normal, we would be like Jesus in the Temple. we would gather to learn and pray and meditate together. Words like “Love God with Your Heart, Soul and Mind and Your Neighbour as yourself” would be sung and shared. We would call out the hypocrites and make plans for collective social justice. We would debate the finer points of our place in this world. It’s hard to change the world sitting in your pajamas in front of a computer screen. We cannot “come together.” Loving your neighbor from a distance is possible, but so much harder. It will get worse before it gets better.
If things were normal, Jesus respite at the home of his friends in Bethany would be an oasis in a tumultuous week. Who doesn’t love a good dinner with friends? Laughing at stories you’ve heard a hundred times, gossiping about so and so who did this and that, words spoken in hushed tones. Maybe too much wine, maybe a playful game of charades. But there are no dinners to be had without a computer screen. And games can be played, but it takes so much effort. It will get worse before it gets better.
If things were normal, we would celebrate together. Seder meals would be shared - the chair for Elijah the only one that is empty. We could pass around the cup and break the bread and remember together. Now so many empty chairs are waiting for a return. And some will never see their guest again. It will get worse before it gets better.
If things were normal, you would have the luxury of falling asleep while Jesus is praying in the park. You wouldn’t want to of course – you believe in showing up for your friends. But you would know that they will forgive a moment of weakness when you just can’t keep your eyes open. They would overlook your pile up of bodies sleeping together while you wait for them. But Jesus prays alone – showing up means staying home. It will get worse before it gets better.
If things were normal, Crucifixions would stop. This time of struggle would bring an outpouring of mercy that covers all. But people are still carrying crosses – more now than ever before. Doctors and Nurses are risking their lives for the ones who cannot breathe. Grocery workers stock shelves for us, unable to limit exposure to just their loved ones. Warehouse workers package goods from our online orders even our impulse buying. It is never finished.
Things will never be normal. But now, at last, the worst is over. There is a hint of resurrection. Across the world, things are starting to move again, and we hope it is just a matter of time. Things may get worse, but they are also better.
We are in a kind of Holy Week. We have a heightened sense of the pathos of life. The Holy, the Sacred is in this liminal space – the threshold between the way things were and the way things will be. When things are normal, we forget that the Eternal One is in all this. We sing Hosannas, have dinner with friends, celebrate holidays, enjoy parks and prayers together. We forget the betrayals and the denials, the power of the mighty visited upon the marginalized. We don’t think at all about the sacrifices that the few make for the many. Now we see – now we see, now we know. We wait for resurrection. The Holy One draws us into the new normal. “I am” “I Was” “I Will Be.” The best is yet to come.
