March 25, 2013

Holy (and Heck) Week

Facebook posts by clergy and church workers trumpet the beginning of Holy Week. The posts share a similar mix of emotions: excitement, anticipation, reverence. There is also the collective breath before the weeklong sprint.

For Christians, Holy Week is a rollercoaster of emotions: the high of Jesus’ entry to Jerusalem, followed so quickly by betrayal, crucifixion, and resurrection. Hollywood has nothing on this real life and death and life story.

We should allow ourselves to be swept into the emotions, swinging from high to low. It’s one way to fully embrace our Saviour, living as if the events happened yesterday and today, – and might happen again tomorrow.

Clergy and church staff, of course, experience this pendulum of emotions too. But they’re also proofreading and folding the bulletins for five or six extra services. They’re working with the Altar Guild and coordinating ecumenical gatherings, talking with the ECW about Easter egg hunts, and doing final preparations with families for the Easter Vigil baptisms. They are writing sermons and praying that each will challenge, engage, and strengthen the listeners. And they’re really fine-tuning the Easter message – it will, after all, be played to a full house. 

In the midst of this, most dioceses hold a renewal of vows or Chrism Mass early in Holy Week. This is a time for clergy to come together with their bishop, to be reminded of their sacred responsibilities. It’s a good and important thing but the timing sucks. 

I’m telling you this as a clergy wife who witnesses the intensity of Holy Week for her husband and his colleagues. Yes, it’s one of the privileges of the vocation, but imagine if the Academy Awards carried on for eight days. 

I say all of this not to make people feel sorry for clergy. They knew this was part of the gig when they answered the call. And really, it must be pretty wonderful to lead, watch, and witness as people move from Maundy Thursday to Good Friday, from the darkness of death to the unbelievable light of Easter morning. 

But I pray people will remember that this is not the week to debate a new parking lot or clean out the parish kitchen. That people will give some space and grace if every sermon isn’t a grand slam or there’s an unfortunate typo in the Psalm. 

You might drop your priests a note of thanksgiving or donate an Easter lily in their honor. You could even consider inviting your priest to Easter dinner. After all, he or she is definitely not traveling to see family, and making deviled eggs and honey-baked ham doesn’t even make the top 100 on this week’s to-do list.