I'm finding such gratitude and sanctuary in the church calendar as of late. Most of my church life has been spent in non-denominational contemporary Protestant churches, but the past three of it has been spent in this lovely little Lutheran congregation--somewhere I never expected to find family or a place to call home. In this time in this church where sacraments are performed seriously and joyfully, where scripture is read aloud betwixt songs and sermons, I have found new awe. There is purpose in the liturgy, in the church calendar, in the liturgy.
Just as we set aside time leading up to Christmas to anticipate Jesus' birth, we also set aside time leading up to Easter to anticipate Jesus' resurrection. And that time builds to a climax during Holy Week. On Palm Sunday, we enter the crowd welcoming Jesus into Jerusalem...with recognition that five days later we are in the crowd again, shouting "Crucify him!" At my church we are given palm fronds to wave during service. I saved mine from last year, and had them sitting on my dashboard. And every once and a while, I would consider that, and reflect on that. (I think that season is now come and gone, and it's time to get rid of the palm fronds. But only did I realize that this weekend.) On Maundy Thursday, we consider the Last Supper, where Jesus washes his disciples feet. On Good Friday, we reflect on the crucifixion We remember the nails driven into his hands and into his feet, we remember the crown of thorns shoved onto his head, and we remember the flogging and the piercing and the hanging and the death of Jesus. My church reads through the passion story in a Tenebrae service--Service of the Shadows, where as the story is read responsatorily, candles are extinguished and lights are dimmed, until the sanctuary is in total darkness. We leave in complete darkness and silence. This year, the part that struck me most was the loud sound played to signify the closing of the tomb. I resisted shrugging off the (emotional and physical) reverbs of that sound in discomfort, and let the finality of that sound register.
In Lent, in Holy Week, we enter a season of remembering the hardship and the price of the cross. We enter a season of recognition that the life of Jesus was not an easy one, and that our lives as his followers are not either. I hope that we take the season of Lent seriously. I think it's important to enter the season of Lent, and not rush to Easter, as would our inclinations be. Because as amazing as Easter is, it cannot have it's place, and it's worth cannot be fully grasped without Good Friday. We must grow in our capacity to understand the death of our Savior in order to grow in our understanding of the life of our Savior. And I am grateful for the church calendar that reminds us that there are seasons. That there is a time both for joy and for mourning, and each season brings new growth.
Sunday, we celebrated that He has risen!! Hallelujah!
And this week, I celebrate that HE IS STILL RISEN! Hallelujah and Amen!
Just as we set aside time leading up to Christmas to anticipate Jesus' birth, we also set aside time leading up to Easter to anticipate Jesus' resurrection. And that time builds to a climax during Holy Week. On Palm Sunday, we enter the crowd welcoming Jesus into Jerusalem...with recognition that five days later we are in the crowd again, shouting "Crucify him!" At my church we are given palm fronds to wave during service. I saved mine from last year, and had them sitting on my dashboard. And every once and a while, I would consider that, and reflect on that. (I think that season is now come and gone, and it's time to get rid of the palm fronds. But only did I realize that this weekend.) On Maundy Thursday, we consider the Last Supper, where Jesus washes his disciples feet. On Good Friday, we reflect on the crucifixion We remember the nails driven into his hands and into his feet, we remember the crown of thorns shoved onto his head, and we remember the flogging and the piercing and the hanging and the death of Jesus. My church reads through the passion story in a Tenebrae service--Service of the Shadows, where as the story is read responsatorily, candles are extinguished and lights are dimmed, until the sanctuary is in total darkness. We leave in complete darkness and silence. This year, the part that struck me most was the loud sound played to signify the closing of the tomb. I resisted shrugging off the (emotional and physical) reverbs of that sound in discomfort, and let the finality of that sound register.
In Lent, in Holy Week, we enter a season of remembering the hardship and the price of the cross. We enter a season of recognition that the life of Jesus was not an easy one, and that our lives as his followers are not either. I hope that we take the season of Lent seriously. I think it's important to enter the season of Lent, and not rush to Easter, as would our inclinations be. Because as amazing as Easter is, it cannot have it's place, and it's worth cannot be fully grasped without Good Friday. We must grow in our capacity to understand the death of our Savior in order to grow in our understanding of the life of our Savior. And I am grateful for the church calendar that reminds us that there are seasons. That there is a time both for joy and for mourning, and each season brings new growth.
Sunday, we celebrated that He has risen!! Hallelujah!
And this week, I celebrate that HE IS STILL RISEN! Hallelujah and Amen!
ReplyDeleteBut my biggest problem starts on Easter Monday. I regard it as absurd and unjustifiable that we should spend forty days keeping Lent, pondering what it means, preaching about self-denial, being at least a little gloomy, and then bringing it all to a peak with Holy Week, which in turn climaxes in Maundy Thursday and Good Friday… and then, after a rather odd Holy Saturday, we have a single day of celebration….
In particular, if Lent is a time to give things up, Easter ought to be a time to take things up. Champagne for breakfast again — well, of course. Christian holiness was never meant to be merely negative. Of course you have to weed the garden from time to time; sometimes the ground ivy may need serious digging before you can get it out. That’s Lent for you. But you don’t want simply to turn the garden back into a neat bed of blank earth. Easter is the time to sow new seeds and to plant out a few cuttings. If Calvary means putting to death things in your life that need killing off if you are to flourish as a Christian and as a truly human being, then Easter should mean planting, watering, and training up things in your life (personal and corporate) that ought to be blossoming, filling the garden with color and perfume, and in due course bearing fruit. The forty days of the Easter season, until the ascension, ought to be a time to balance out Lent by taking something up, some new task or venture, something wholesome and fruitful and outgoing and self-giving. You may be able to do it only for six weeks, just as you may be able to go without beer or tobacco only for the six weeks of Lent. But if you really make a start on it, it might give you a sniff of new possibilities, new hopes, new ventures you never dreamed of. It might bring something of Easter into your innermost life. It might help you wake up in a whole new way. And that’s what Easter is all about.
N. T. Wright