Holy Monday

The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit, A broken and a contrite heart— These, O God, You will not despise. – Psalm 51:17

Last week I wrote that we were living through strange days. While that remains true, these days are more than just strange; they are heartbreaking.

I know that my heart is broken: broken for all the heroes putting their health and lives in danger as the Coronavirus rages, broken for those fighting for their lives, broken for family members who have lost loved ones.

Perhaps a broken heart is the appropriate attitude to have as we journey through the twists and turns of Holy Week. Of all the weeks on the church calendar, this is the one with the strongest emotions: exaltation, hope, guilt, fear, sorrow, hopelessness, grief and eventually joy.

I have always wondered what Jesus felt during these first couple of days after Palm Sunday. What was it like knowing that he would be dead by the end of the week? Every moment that passed had to weigh heavily on him. I would imagine that in some respects the waiting had to be the worst part.

That’s something most of us can relate to as we wait for the Coronavirus to hit our communities with full force. The waiting is hard because there are so many unknowns. When will it strike our community? How many will get sick? How sick will they be? Are there lasting physical effects? How about the economy – will it recover? And how will our country be different as a result of the pandemic?

Not having the answers to these questions makes this an anxious of waiting.

While I don’t have answers to share, I do have promises.

Once, in a Bible study class, someone asked me why we bothered to read the scriptures, particularly the Old Testament, because “it all happened so long ago. What relevance could it have for us today?”

True, the events described in the Bible took place thousands of years ago. True, it was a different culture. And it’s also true that there was no quarantine, no social distancing, no Covid-19.

The Bible’s relevance depends on your perspective. If you view the Bible as lifeless words on paper, then it really has no relevance. If you see it as a kind of instruction manual, you’re missing the point.

First and foremost, the Bible is a love letter from God to his beloved children. While this letter does contain instruction, that is not its primary function. The Bible isn’t static; it is a living document, a vehicle through which the Holy Spirit can move and instill God’s love in our hearts.

The Bible is also a promise book, assuring us of God’s love and care. Those of us with broken hearts are given promises like this:

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” – Psalm 147:3

In times like these, when life is uncertain and answers hard to come by, God’s promises mean everything.

One of the last promises Jesus made to his disciples before his arrest was an assurance of peace:

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” – John 14:27

He said this to them knowing the trials they would face, knowing that only one of them would die a natural death. We will never have all the answers. Things beyond our control will continue to happen. We can’t always control events, but we can control our response to events. We can choose fear or we can choose peace. We can find peace in promises given to us and sealed in the death and resurrection of Jesus.

And though we may be isolated because of the virus, we do not have to be alone. People are finding creative ways to maintain the sense of community we so desperately need. So, we continue to journey together, pray for one another, and encourage one another.

Since my outreach comes primarily through this blog, this week I’ll try to post something each day of the Triduum (Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Holy Saturday) as we await the resurrection dawn of Easter.

These next seven days could be among the most difficult our country has ever endured. They may even break our hearts. But, they don’t have to steal our joy. You can’t have Easter without Good Friday. But remember, Good Friday doesn’t last forever. Easter will come.

Stay well.