...but this is your hour, when darkness reigns. (Luke 22:53)
I have two things to share with you. The first is regarding our Set Free Campaign. The second is regarding the week ahead.
Set Free: On Sunday we received the exciting announcement that, as a result of our pre-Celebration Sunday gatherings, we have already received commitments from 89 households totaling $2,104,618, an average of $23,647per household (the average I shared in worship was incorrect. I had a long week.). Some committed more and others less as each was able, and what a generous congregation you are! I am so proud of this church.
The Week Ahead: The line above from Luke 22 says it all, noting the turn from Palm Sunday hosannas to Good Friday silence. We should enter this week with hesitation and walk through it on our tip toes. Here is a reminder of what we have planned to help us do that together.
Tenebrae Service, Thu. 7:00pm - this is the Last Supper, the last bit of light, in one of the most powerful worship services of the year.
Service of Shadows and Spikes, Fri. 7:30 - a new service this year in the Atrium. After hearing the plan for it, I can tell you that you absolutely don’t want to miss it.
Community Egg Hunt, Sat. 11:00am - Fun, huge, welcoming, diverse, a time your family will not forget.
Easter Sunday, 9am & 11:05am
I leave you with a poem by Ann Weems that Ellen Dittman reminded me of. Take it with you. Let the words ground you in the mystery of all that is holy this week.
Holy is the week...
Holy, consecrated, belonging to God...
We move from hosannas to horror
with predictable ease
of those who know not what they do.
Our hosannas sung, our palms waved,
let us go with passion into this week.
It is time to curse fig trees that do not yield fruit.
It is time to cleanse our temples of any blasphemy.
It is time to greet Jesus as the Lord’s Anointed One,
to lavishly break our alabaster
and pour perfume out for him
without counting the cost.
It is a time for preparation...
The time to give thanks and break bread is upon us.
The time to give thanks and drink of the cup is imminent.
Eat, drink, remember:
On this night of nights, each one must ask,
as we dip our bread in the wine,
“Is it I?”
And on that darkest of days, each of us must stand
beneath the tree
and watch the dying
if we are to be there
when the stone is rolled away.
The only road to Easter morning
is through the unrelenting shadows of that Friday.
Only then will the alleluias be sung;
only then will the dancing begin.