It’s Holy Week, the week that begins with Passion (or Palm) Sunday, and concludes with Easter, the Day of Resurrection. This week means so much to those of us who are “churched” and accustomed to the rhythm of the church year and its seasons. This is Lent, and Lent leads us to Easter, and we all know that.
Except that today fewer people than ever know that – and their children are not learning – and Christendom is no reality in this year of Our Lord 2014.
But yesterday we in the church began Holy Week with a flourish and a whoop. At Christ Church Xenia we gathered in the Parish Hall for the brief and joyous Liturgy of the Palms. As people held their palms aloft I walked among them. I sprinkled holy water on them and on their palms, blessing this reminder of the day Jesus rode into Jerusalem with the crowds shouting Hosanna! and laying palm branches on the road he traveled. Then singing, we walked in procession out the doors of the Parish Hall, and around the outside of the church to the front door, where we entered to continue our worship.
This year it actually worked, that singing-in-procession part. Joe, our hard-working Music Director, and my good spouse Pete arrived extra early to set up a temporary sound system which would send our organ music ringing out of the church windows and onto the path we walked. There was a reason for this extra work. If you’ve ever watched or been part of a singing procession, you know that the end of the procession will always be singing something very out of step with the beginning of the procession. I’m not sure why that happens, but it does. Everyone ends up confused, and the singing is halting if not downright discordant. We reasoned that the music resounding from the church windows all along our path would keep us in time with each other. It worked, and worked well.
We had some concerns about our neighbors, though, and didn’t want to anger or offend anyone. At the same time, we hoped our public procession (singing in tune and all together) might be a “witness” and touch some whom God was seeking. Accordingly, one of our neighbors stepped out onto his patio and waved to us, and another commented later that it was nice to actually hear what was going on in the church next door. So far, and with fingers crossed, we have had no complaints.
The neighbor’s comment, though, struck me. It confirms my sense that many look at our stone “fortresses” and are intimidated or hesitant or uncertain of their welcome in such forbidding places. So many of our beloved church buildings look more like medieval castles than anything people around us might find familiar or welcoming. A procession, singing and joyful, is not a bad way to interpret our life to others. There are many other ways to do that, and if God has ever meant anything good in our lives, we ought to find those ways. When you have something precious and wonderful that has changed your life, why wouldn’t you want to reach out and share?
So – kudos to Joe and Pete, thanksgivings for the beautiful procession, and for – hopefully – a window opening to our community. A blessed Holy Week to all.
Except that today fewer people than ever know that – and their children are not learning – and Christendom is no reality in this year of Our Lord 2014.
But yesterday we in the church began Holy Week with a flourish and a whoop. At Christ Church Xenia we gathered in the Parish Hall for the brief and joyous Liturgy of the Palms. As people held their palms aloft I walked among them. I sprinkled holy water on them and on their palms, blessing this reminder of the day Jesus rode into Jerusalem with the crowds shouting Hosanna! and laying palm branches on the road he traveled. Then singing, we walked in procession out the doors of the Parish Hall, and around the outside of the church to the front door, where we entered to continue our worship.
This year it actually worked, that singing-in-procession part. Joe, our hard-working Music Director, and my good spouse Pete arrived extra early to set up a temporary sound system which would send our organ music ringing out of the church windows and onto the path we walked. There was a reason for this extra work. If you’ve ever watched or been part of a singing procession, you know that the end of the procession will always be singing something very out of step with the beginning of the procession. I’m not sure why that happens, but it does. Everyone ends up confused, and the singing is halting if not downright discordant. We reasoned that the music resounding from the church windows all along our path would keep us in time with each other. It worked, and worked well.
We had some concerns about our neighbors, though, and didn’t want to anger or offend anyone. At the same time, we hoped our public procession (singing in tune and all together) might be a “witness” and touch some whom God was seeking. Accordingly, one of our neighbors stepped out onto his patio and waved to us, and another commented later that it was nice to actually hear what was going on in the church next door. So far, and with fingers crossed, we have had no complaints.
The neighbor’s comment, though, struck me. It confirms my sense that many look at our stone “fortresses” and are intimidated or hesitant or uncertain of their welcome in such forbidding places. So many of our beloved church buildings look more like medieval castles than anything people around us might find familiar or welcoming. A procession, singing and joyful, is not a bad way to interpret our life to others. There are many other ways to do that, and if God has ever meant anything good in our lives, we ought to find those ways. When you have something precious and wonderful that has changed your life, why wouldn’t you want to reach out and share?
So – kudos to Joe and Pete, thanksgivings for the beautiful procession, and for – hopefully – a window opening to our community. A blessed Holy Week to all.
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