From "Holy Week 2009"

Ramblings re Holy Week, 2009

MAUNDY THURSDAY…Pastor Manisha’s sermon speaks of the drastic intimacy Jesus seeks with us…she urges us not to shy away as he draws near to us to wash our feet… as I kneel to wash the feet of my two companions I am aware that these are not just random feet here in front of me, they come with stories I know well… the first pair belongs to one of our youth with whom I went to New York on the J2A Pilgrimage last summer… I remember how these feet could not walk by any homeless street person without stopping while a conversation took place and some of their owner’s small amount of money shared… the other feet are attached to a young man who, a few years ago, was suffering from an ominous blood disorder that defied diagnosis or prognosis…I help to wash their feet and the familiar music washes over me…
When we sing to God in heaven/We shall make such harmony/Born of all we’ve known together/Of Christ’s love, and agony. GOOD FRIDAY- music, once again, with Colin Davis’ group singing Lift me up/ Turn me around/ I was lost/ Now I’m found… our own parishioners speak with humanity and humor about their own experience of Christ’s suffering and death… one speaks of an uncle who lost his wife and two daughters over a very short period of time, yet found the strength to keep his faith and hope alive in spite of it… another speaker talked about his uncles, father, and grandmother, and their self-giving love taken for granted by those on whom it was bestowed… “giants”, he called them… “giants” in gentleness, generosity, and faith…as I look around, I behold a churchful of such giants… yet this awareness does not make me feel small, it makes me feel lifted up, as if invisible uncles were supporting me on either side.
EASTER VIGIL… The Gospel read in darkness, lit only by two small candles…“And very early on the first day of the week…the [three women] went to the tomb…” and what they found there fills us with dread and amazement and an abiding hopefulness that we can barely put into words, so we just whack on bells and gongs until our arms grow tired and lights in the church all come on at once to reveal a dazzling panorama of flowers and candles and gleaming silver… and Chase, three years old, comes forward to present himself for baptism… “Do you renounce Satan,” inquires Pastor Manisha, “and all the powers of wickedness that rebel against God.” “I eenoss them,” Chase replies. “Do you turn to Jesus Christ and accept him as your Savior?” Chase is obviously thinking about something else, and there is a pause as he gazes up at the ceiling before looking Pastor Manisha in the eye and saying, “I do.”
EASTER SUNDAY… Trumpets! Beethoven! Throngs of small children! More trumpets! I move to the pulpit to the tones of a majestic fanfare… What can I possibly say to fulfill such grand expectations? Nothing… it has already been said, and sung, and acted out, and lived.
You and I are the sermon, the promise, and the hope. We are also the roadblock, the detour, and the heavy stone rolled against the tomb. But God’s love perseveres in loving us and teaching us to love. Christ has risen! And so have we.
Love,
Jonathan+