God of death and resurrection, God of the
space between, we have walked this Holy Week
road before, but never quite like this.
As always, palms are behind us, shouts of “hosanna”
ringing in our ears. As always, we look toward your
death with grief, your resurrection with great hope.
As always, you are here with us through it all.
Yes, we have walked this Holy Week road
before, but never quite like this.
This year nails will pierce the cross, and we will mourn
in our homes rather than in our pews.
This year your body will be placed in the tomb,
and we will await word from those faithful
women as we shelter in place.
This year, resurrection will come (it always
comes) and we will shout “hallelujah,”
rejoicing in our living rooms, across computer
screens, over conference lines, because this
year, as in every year, you are still with us.
Yes, we have walked this Holy Week road
before, but never quite like this.
May we remember, Holy One,
that in every familiar and unfamiliar step,
every “hosanna,” every “hallelujah,”
every Zoom call and every text,
you are with us.
As we walk this Holy Week road remind us--
in death, in resurrection, in joy and grief,
in the unknown and the liminal space between,
you are still our God, and we are still your
people.
Resurrection will indeed come.
Amen.
