It’s Holy Week. My favorite week of the year. Most of my friends and family are Christmas diehards, but us? My husband and I have always preferred Resurrection Day and the week leading up to it. The week when the focus isn’t on gifts but on sacrifice.
This year, everything looks so different, doesn’t it? A couple of months ago when talking about what we’d do this week, we were considering things like finding a Good Friday service at another local church, since ours doesn’t have one. My husband was joking (or dreaming, perhaps, LOL) about flying to Europe to see a live performance of Bach’s St. Matthew’s Passion in Bach’s hometown. We were planning our usual Messianic Passover Seder meal for tonight, our Sunrise Service for Sunday.
Instead, we’re all going to be home. Using online meeting technology to gather with our church family for that Seder meal tonight. Listening to the Passion in our living room tomorrow. Running any services online as we’ve been doing for the past few weeks. And I find myself wondering–how will the change in routine change my understanding?
This year, everything looks so different . . . but that can be a good thing. It’s when there’s a change, a disruption, an upheaval that we can often see things in a new light. As I listen to other families muse about what life looks like for them in the last few weeks, I admit to grinning sometimes–because suddenly everyone’s life looks a lot like my normal one. Work, school, cooking, meetings–they’re all happening from home. That’s not to say I don’t feel empathy for those who are struggling with balancing these things–I struggle with it too! But I’m also praying that everyone experiences new levels of connection with their families.
Last week, I took a day to write (as I often do) at our office (which is empty unless I or my husband go over for a day, so no fear of sharing germs with anyone!). When I got home, we had dinner, did our evening devotional, etc. It looked, I realized, like a normal day for most families, with everyone doing their own things during the day. And as I was going about my evening chores, I had this realization: on those days when I’m not home all day, I miss the connection with my husband and kids. I might be more productive, but I’m less nourished on a heart level. Which in turn led me to renew my prayers for all my friends and family and readers, that this unusual time of sheltering in place would be one not of frustration but of deepening connection. Sure, there will be moments of getting on each other’s nerves. But I pray that even more, there will be moments of hearts meeting on new levels.
And I’m praying the same thing happens as we celebrate Holy Week at home this year. That somehow, through the isolation and change in routine, new Truths about His ultimate sacrifice, His ultimate victory, His ultimate glory will flood my soul. That when forced to do things in a new way, I’ll also see things in a new way.
I pray that a quieter version of events will silence some of the noise that always creeps in and bathe my spirit with His song.
I pray that this year, Holy Week will be all about the HOLY in our house. Not about eggs or dinners or rushing to get to church on time. But about dwelling in Him. Walking the path, the via delorosa, with Him. Suffering with Him. Rising to new life with Him.
This year, everything looks so different . . . but the most important things haven’t changed. He still loves us so much that He gave His life for us. He still rose from the grave. He’s still sitting at the right hand of the Father. And His Spirit is still with us, dwelling in us, leading us and guiding us. Even when our feet are keeping us in one place.
What are you doing this year to compensate for the quarantine? In place of family dinners, Easter egg hunts, or services at your church, are you doing anything new and special? I’d love to hear about it!