Holy Week is the Story of Our Lives

This has been a wild week—a wild and holy week.  Wild because of the weather, with up and down temperatures, sunshine and snow, mud and ice.  Holy because it’s Holy week in the Christian religion.  Palm Sunday dawned with a peaceful, pastel sky—a sight to behold, one fit for a King.

Early Spring eases its way out of Winter with fits and starts—the promise is here, small signs are here, but in good standing, we cannot proclaim that Spring is here.  One morning, this small sign of Spring chirped and sang with exuberance from on high in the Linden tree.  A Starling is not known to be a pretty or interesting bird, but he was singing hosanna with joy!

The colorful Sunday morning sky heralded in a Monday morning snow.  Confusion swirled around the Spruce branches as the vine tried to reassure them.  Spring is here!  They did not believe. 

Tuesday warmed to 40 degrees with brilliant sunshine, and the sap was lifted up from the earth and flowed from a wound in the Maple tree.  Now this feels like Spring!

Wednesday was muddy and messy.  The warmth melted the new snow and chiseled away at the old piles.  Plans for the future garden were held in disbelief.

It’s too hard to imagine Spring and new life when the snow still clings to the north-facing hills.

Thursday’s rising sun shone through another colorful morning sky, foreshadowing another stormy day.  The pink light from the east reflected off the western hills.  Geese flew to the open part of the Sauk River for nourishment and companionship, washing their feet in the clear, cold water.

Friday morning’s sky was heavy and dark to the west, and I thought to myself, ‘It looks like snow.’  Soon the flakes started to fall, laying down an inch or so on the pavement as the warmed earth melted it away.  A Pileated Woodpecker crowed his distinctive call, flew to the base of one of the old Spruce trees, and proceeded to excavate a cavernous hole with his powerful beak.  He shouldn’t be destroying a live, formidable tree.

The afternoon looked normal, looked warm, but the wind picked up and felt damp and cold, betraying any thoughts of Spring.  When the sun sank and the day was done, the night sky was a strange purple-gray.

I heard the wind straining the house and trees overnight and heard ice hitting the windows.  A Winter chill settled over the house, over the land, over the Spring.  Saturday morning was cold with a wind chill of 1° F and three inches of snow.  The evergreen tree branches drooped with the burden of heavy, icy snow.  The blue sky taunted us to come outside to play, but everything else about the day held grief, disbelief, and suffering.  Spring, why have you forsaken us?

Easter morning dawned clear and cold.  The wind had calmed down.  The second blue moon of the year was setting in the west.

The sun rose blindingly bright; we were unable to look directly at its glory—even through the trees its power was undeniable.  The Cardinals were singing their Spring songs, and the sun created infinite sparkling diamonds in the snow.

It seems like all of Life is encompassed in Holy week.  Our exuberant joys and our deepest sorrows.  The days our hearts are troubled.  Our denial and disbelief in what is real, in what is happening before our eyes, in what we thought we strongly held in our hearts.  Holy week and our lives are wild with confusion, doubt, and suffering, along with devotion, love, and friendship.  It highlights the tender, vulnerable moments of our lives when we dare to kneel in servanthood, when we break the rules for justice and kindness, when we offer our dearest ones to another for safe-keeping, and when we call out to God in prayer.  It reveals the inconsistency and idiocy of power in the wrong hands and of deluded group-think that spreads like wildfire and destroys the Spirit of truth.  It gives us hope for the future, peace for the present, and reclamation for the past.  It gives us a way forward, a blueprint for transformation, and a belief in a bigger, more benevolent Way.  Holy Week is the story of our lives.  Peace and Love be with you.