There is a sense
for me that while much of what we do in the church is dramatic and wonderful
and surprising, we can fall into doing it by rote. Although we have the riches
of the Book of Common Prayer and many
other options, we can get in the habit of doing things the same way year after
year. The days during Holy Week can be that way because often it seems as
though we are “paying our dues”. It’s a way of saying, “Yeah, yeah, I know
Jesus died for my sins. So to get to Easter I have to pay the price of going
through these long readings and hearing a story I already know.” Some of us would
like to skip Maundy Thursday and Good Friday because they’re such downers
anyway. Perhaps the grace of Holy Week is since we only do these things once a
year, even a priest can forget “the way we always do it.”
If
you are a little tired of this yearly routine, I have some suggestions to bring
back both a little healthy realism and the drama of Holy Week back into your
life. I suggest you talk to a child, a teenager, or a new Christian. Their perspective
is totally different.
I’m reminded of the
drama that occurred with a four-year old in another parish, another year. As the
mother explained the story of Jesus’ crucifixion the child listened quietly,
hearing it for the first time. But when Mommy told her about the crucifixion,
she sobbed out, “No, no, Mommy! Jesus was good!”
That
is the kind of immediacy and drama I would pray for all of us of on Good Friday.
I think it has much less to do with getting the details right and more to do
with entering fully into the story. I believe putting ourselves in the story has
far more to do with the immediacy of the story to a child. It has most to do
with hearing the story as though we are hearing it for the first time. Fresh,
new, and shocking, all its drama is revealed before us: that God who became
flesh died a horrible and unjust death. And, that we recognize that though it may
play as drama, it is stunningly real.
And
imagination and wonder, I believe, are the keys to this for us. As adults, our
imaginations are sometimes a little rusty and seldom used. I’m inviting you to
blow the dust off your imagination. I’m inviting you to imagine yourself with
Jesus. There in Jerusalem: smelling the smells, tasting the bread and drinking
the wine at the last supper, touching the ground with your dusty bare feet,
hearing the yells of the crowd, and knowing
you were present at the events.
Who
is Jesus to you? Who are you on this day? Who are you on this day that begins
in triumph and ends in despair? How immediate is this part of our salvation story
to you?
You and I were
there. You and I found the colt for Jesus to ride. You and I waved branches. We
threw down our cloaks on the ground and yelled “Hosanna!” We took the bread
from Jesus’ hand and then went out to betray him. And we argued over which of
us was the greatest.
We
waited in the Garden while Jesus prayed and we fell asleep. We kissed Jesus
before we betrayed him. We greeted violence with violence when Jesus was
arrested. And we denied Jesus when someone asked if we knew Him.
We
mocked. We jeered. We waited on the road to see Jesus pass by. We heard the
nails being pounded. We saw Jesus hanging in agony on the cross. We heard him
say, “It is finished” and saw him give up his spirit.
And
when this day ends, we sit in darkness by the tomb. We sit in darkness holding Jesus
in our hearts. We wait to see when light will come. We wait to see when his grave
will break open and light and love pour out on Easter day. AMEN.
The Rev
Nicolette Papanek
©2016
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