Tag Archives: Holy Week

The Holy in the Midst of the Profane

 

Jesus is flogged. Sculpture at the Sagrada Familia, Barcelona by Michael Bledsoe

Jesus is flogged. Sculpture at the Sagrada Familia, Barcelona by Michael Bledsoe

Journeying through Holy Week is also a journey through the profane.  If there is something “holy” then by necessity there is something profane.  Each term is identified by what the other is not.

I encourage you to take those salacious headlines about the profanation of the White House by its current occupant; take the rumors of war and the unyielding refusal of communities to hold accountable those who murder Black citizens (Sacramento and Baton Rouge only the most recent of a too-long list); take the suffering of the poor preyed upon by the hollow policies of politicians who cannot conceive that they might be called to hallow the world instead; take these to Golgotha. And of course, take yourself for all of us participate at some level in the ruin of the world.

We journey to the Holy while in the midst of the profane.  This is a stinging truth that culminates in the lynching of the Christ by Roman soldiers dedicated to the empire.  The consumer world around us spins toward Easter. We on the other hand travel with Jesus, to a solemn last supper, to a hill outside the holy city, Jerusalem, to a borrowed tomb.  Let us cry for our world, for ourselves and then by God’s grace, let us awaken on the third day.

Maundy Thursday Service is at 8pm at Westminster Presbyterian Church at 400 I Street. We will participate in a service of “stones of remembrance.”  I will be preaching and we will be joined there with Westminster and Christ United Methodist.  Easter Sunday we will worship at Jefferson Middle School at 10 a.m.  May we find our way to the Holy One this Holy Week. ~See you Thursday and Sunday

How To Begin Holy Week How to End Holy Week

salvador_dali_crucifixion
Holy Week begins this Sunday, Palm Sunday.
This is how to begin Holy Week: take one step toward Jerusalem, very carefully look for a Galilean whose face is set like flint and who holds in hand a trampled palm frond.
On Monday, be brave and ask him where he is headed.
 On Tuesday, offer him your pillow, because for three years, his head has rested on a stone each night.
 On Wednesday, do not say a word. Do not try to talk him out of where he is going.  Cry for yourself and all that is irretrievably lost in the world.  Then smell your favorite perfume or cologne and pretend you have anointed him for his burial even while he was taking bread from a leper’s hand.
 On Thursday, drink wine and rejoice in the presence of the Galilean and then look at it and think, this looks like blood.  Sing a hymn.  Worship with others if you can so you are not alone in the night, as he prays over there in the garden alone.
 On Friday.  On Friday.  On Friday.   Hammer a nail into a tree. In the evening of the Sabbath, weep because we killed the Son of God.
 Saturday, find some holy place in order to ponder how it is that humans always name holy ground after the most unholy things possible, like battle fields, cemeteries, and a hill of skulls called Calvary.
 On Sunday, when the sun dances along the edge of the horizon and birds sing doxologies worthy of Mozart, put on  fresh clothes and run to a holy place, so you can hear the news that Magdalene proclaimed first  . . . so you can hear the words that Magdalene proclaimed … so you can hear.
 Pray this all week long.  Christ have mercy.  Lord, have mercy.
In the Name of Christ let us walk now, bravely, fully, into Holy Week. I will see you on the other side of Friday.  Sunday is coming.
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