I cannot remember the last time or any time that I did not participate or lead Holy Week services. For those unfamiliar, this is the week leading up to Easter which begins the prior Sunday, Palm Sunday.

The week begins with the triumphant entry and celebration of Christ as he enters Jerusalem. It continues to Maundy Thursday where we listen to the stories of Jesus washing his disciples feet and sharing a meal with them, his last meal with them (which by the way was NOT the passover feast as we know it today), then we strip the altar and worship space and leave in silence.

The following day is Good Friday, the day he was crucified. We tell the story in a church covered in black or stripped completely bare of candles, linens, crosses, etc. It is powerful and moving.

Saturday is the Easter Vigil or Holy Saturday. On this evening we sit and light the first candle or fire of Easter and we hear the stories of the history of God’s people, from Genesis to the cross. And we bear that light back into the sanctuary and celebrate the first eucharist of Easter. It is truly the first easter service, even earlier than Sunrise Services!

It makes for a very long week as a pastor. It makes for a stunning journey for participants. We are visually, emotionally, intelligently, spiritually, and physically brought along for the ride of the Holy Week. It reminds us of our journey as people of faith.

For as many years as I can remmeber, I participated in all the Holy Week services. I love them. Then as a leader, I led them, for the last 9 years I have been leading them, beginning with internship. But this year is different. This year I have no congregation to lead. I have no congregation to worship with that I am connected with. I am on my own and pondering what to do with this week.

I have been intentionally silent about the events around my departure from my last call, not out of shame, but deep love. And deep grief. I have been still for months now as I processed my role in the church at large for the last 9 years. And I wondered every so often what I would do for Holy Week. My greatest desire was to disappear to the desert for the week but that was not an option. And now, here we are on Wednesday of Holy Week and I am aware I will be doing nothing. Intentionally. I will be still this Holy Week. I will not do, I will not go, I will not lead, I will not participate. I will be still and let it wash over me in an intentional way that I only now realize will be good and fruitful.

but somewhere deep inside, my heart is aching for this simple stillness to ponder this story. The world has changed, I have changed and maybe this stillness will let me observe this in a wholly new way that will inform me going forward. Being still is sacred. It is healing. It is necessary. If you are in that place where movement just does not seem possible, then let us be still together. And see what washes over us.