Dear Friends,
Most families observe certain rituals. When I was a child, one of those days was whatever day in March it was that the network ran The Wizard of Oz. My four siblings and I would look forward to this for weeks! For that evening, Mom would spend precious grocery money on potato chips, French onion dip, and bottles of Pepsi – our food of choice for great celebrations. We kids would change into our pajamas early and arrange ourselves on the floor with pillows in front of the television, often lying across one another like a litter of pups. Our excitement grew to fidget level as the time approached.
My father invariably gave the same heads-up to us each year as Dorothy’s Kansas home hit the ground with a thud and she moved toward the door that would open upon Oz: “Watch, now! Watch what happens when she opens the door!”
And each year, as though for the first time, we were awed by the sheer beauty of the bright Technicolor foliage, the gold of the Yellow Brick Road, the fantastic silliness of the Munchkins’ apparel, the glorious sparkle of the Glinda’s voluminous gown.
Far from growing old and less interesting over time, this family ritual became more precious each year. Pattern and memory enriched it over time. We always knew Dad would remind us to watch as Dorothy opened the door. We always knew what Dorothy would see on the other side. We always knew that she would tap her heels three times and return home, and we always knew which of us would secretly be wiping tears as Dorothy said goodbye to her Ozian friends. Even so, the experience never its emotional impact.
This, too, is the nature of our Holy Week worship. We know that Palm Sunday signals the end of Jesus’s earthly journey. We know his tender words to his disciples at the Last Supper. We know the Good Friday moment in John’s gospel that tells us Jesus has died on the cross. We know the joy and triumph of Easter morning. Most of us have made this journey before. Most of us know to look for the changes in color during the week, to listen for the familiar Holy Week hymns, to anticipate changes in the liturgy, to expect the smells of incense and lilies at Saturday’s Great Vigil and on Easter Sunday morning. And yet, the liturgy and music of this holy time seldom fail to bring us to sorrow and joy as we tread the steps together again as if for the first time.
Don’t miss a moment of this holy time. It is one of the great times of ritual that binds us in faith and community.
Wishing all of us a blessed Holy Week,
Mtr. TJ