I logged in to my email this morning to discover an advert for an office supplies company proclaiming loudly in my inbox – “EVERYTHING MUST GO!” It appears even businesses undertake the tedious work of spring cleaning.
The world has tumbled rather quickly for us in Minnesota into spring and all her many shenanigans. It is a messy time. The yard is still soft, the mud clings to our treads, and the longer brighter days shed unwanted light on the dust bunnies and the bric-a-brac that have accumulated during the winter of our lives. And so we attack the clutter in hopes that if we can at least get our homes a bit cleaner, perhaps we too will feel better by default. And it does work, if only for a moment.
This is why the church, in her wisdom, has invited the faithful over the centuries to the observation of a holy Lent, a time when we clean out the clutter and detritus of our lives. Such a cleansing and a purging create space for simplicity and focus and a chance to notice just how full our lives truly are with the presence of God.
During Holy Week this urge to put away the clutter and excess is intensified. Last night, as we worshipped in the half-light of a darkened church, and as the choir sang the stark words of Psalm 22, the altar and remaining decorations and embellishments of the church that had not yet been covered or removed during the season of Lent, were trundled out of the chancel and into waiting offices and halls.
All that remained was the body and blood of Jesus. These we processed reverently to the side altar and with votives lit, we stood or knelt, and we watched and we prayed, and we let the knowledge of the presence of God seep into our very being.
Today the church will be closed and darkened save for our two remaining services of Good Friday (12 and 7 PM) and then, in a rush, on Saturday night (7 PM) the world will return to its beautiful, full, busy, and gloriously cluttered self as we shout our alleluias and ring bells. Only, it won’t be all the same. If we truly take this time, to kneel or stand in silence, amidst the stark and uncluttered halls of Good Friday, then we will know that God is with us and because of this, nothing is ever the same.
See you in church.
Jered
