One Hell of a Holy Week

Yesterday marked the beginning of Holy Week.  Normally, of course, we flock to our churches for the annual observance of Jesus' entry into Jerusalem which we've come to call Palm Sunday.  Normally, our pews are full, palm branches are passed out at the door, and, at my church, we even have a brass quintet!  Despite marking the beginning of a week marred by betrayal, desertion, arrest and crucifixion, Palm Sunday, at least here on Sanibel, is a rather festive occasion.  We even have hot cross buns at fellowship hour.

But not this year.  This year folks had to stay-at-home, and our live-streamed worship had to take the place of our usual celebration.  We weren't able to hand out palms, the pews were empty, and the brass quintet didn't come (we asked them to stay home, so that we wouldn't exceed ten in terms of folks in the sanctuary).  It could have been a rather somber occasion, but it was not.  We acknowledged the challenges of these difficult times.  We prayed for all those impacted medically and economically.  We thanked God for first responders and healthcare workers.  And we spoke of the fact that, as always, we can choose to approach things like Pilate or like Jesus, with selfishness and fear, or with courage and love.  But we were able to celebrate the Good News nonetheless, with some joyful music, including "All Glory, Laud and Honor, and a hornpipe that practically danced!

Later this week we will live-stream Maundy Thursday.  That's going to be very different.  We are encouraging folks to have a bit of bread, and a glass of juice or wine at the ready--and we'll consecrate the elements virtually.  A friend told me that his bishop sent out specific instructions:  no virtual consecration.  But we're part of the United Church of Christ.  We don't have bishops, and we are pretty "low church."  If water can be turned into wine, I suspect consecration can happen digitally!

Good Friday, we will be posting a prerecorded video at Noon, featuring a monologue written and presented by my associate.  We can't live-stream as our technicians aren't available that day.  And why should they be?  For both of them its a workday, and we're just grateful they still have their jobs. We'll manage.

And then comes Easter.  We'll live-stream that as well.  My sermon for the morning is titled "Where Did He Go?"  I planned and titled it three months ago, before the spread of the corona virus
.  I could, I suppose, retitle it, "Where Did They Go?" referencing the empty pews and the missing parishioners.  But the truth is, Jesus didn't go anywhere--in fact his spirit is everywhere--including in the lives of all those folks who normally fill the pews.

Yes, in some ways this is one hell of a Holy Week.  And for those who have experienced sickness or death because of the virus, it is truly tragic.  And I can't imagine the stress and strain being felt by healthcare workers and others who deal with the virus head-om  They are in my prayers daily.

But for the rest of us, challenging as it is to practice social distancing, this Holy Week is also a powerful reminder that the church is not about a building (as helpful as our buildings can be).  It's not about doing things the way we've always done them before (as important as tradition is).  Rather it is about the love of God which transcends time and place.  It is about the love that binds us together as a congregation, and beyond that, as people of God.  Even when we are apart.

Have a blessed Holy Week, and Easter!  And a blessed Passover to all those in our sister congregation Temple Bat Yam and in Jewish congregations around the world.

(Photo Credit:  Bruce Findley, Easter 2019)

(If you'd like to join our live-streamed services, just go to our website, www.sanibelucc.org, and follow the instructions there.)