My Holy Week Diary

WEDNESDAY:

Back in 2002 I was asked to plan a Wednesday church meeting during Holy Week. I asked my boss just what was the significance of that particular day in the church calendar. He replied that it was called -- ahem -- "The Day of Silence." It sounded like it had some potential, at the very least it sounded way cooler than "Maundy Thursday." Heck, it sounded like a movie title. Try it!

STAR TREK 11: THE DAY OF SILENCE
HARRY POTTER AND THE DAY OF SILENCE
THE DAY OF SILENCE -- THE RETURN OF HANNIBAL & THE LAMBS

When I finally got around to planning the meeting, I discovered the horrible truth: The hump day of Lent is called The Day of Silence because nothing is recorded about the day in the Bible. So I got stuck with planning a church service about nothing, and Jerry Seinfeld was nowhere in sight. (It all turned out OK. I actually made it a quiet meeting with plenty of time for meditation and reflection.)

This year's Wednesday was anything but silent, and my wife and I are all the poorer for it. The church my wife and I pastor shares the same building space with two other churches. On big holidays (such as Easter), we "unite" for a big service, which usually means an uber-traditional hymnfest with 2/3 of the congregation wondering what they're doing there in the first place. I try to have a good attitude about the united events, but I always seem to approach them out of a sense of obligation rather than anticipation. Also, a week's vacation would begin Easter Sunday after church, which meant that I had a lot of work to do before then. And then a few coworkers got under my skin.. and finally... I BLEW UP. Yep, yelled and pouted and acted like a complete ass in front of my wife. I took home the gold in the Olympic Jerk competition.

The worst part was that it didn't even occur to me until after the fact that my wife, who did nothing to provoke my tantrum, got the brunt of my outburst while the objects of my anger didn't even get a disgruntled growl. I wondered how many times I've played that scenario out? I can act professional under any circumstances between 8 to 5, but feel perfectly justified to act like a grump the second I get home. Or I give 110% on the job, but feel too worn out to play with the kids when I'm at home. Where do I get off giving my family the scraps? Something has to change... I have to change...

I make a mental note to find a way to do something nice for T-- that can cancel out the way I acted. Grant her a divorce, perhaps?

THURSDAY:

Dreams are cool, because you'll say and do things that you never would in real life. That's also why dreams are scary.

I had a dream in the wee hours of Maundy Thursday. It was about an individual that I care very much about, with whom I've tried -- in my own clumsy way -- to share the goodness of life in Christ. In my dream this person decided to pursue their spiritual quest at one of the other churches in the building. I ranted and raved about how pissed I was because, after all, that person "belonged in my church."

I woke up and reflected that I really didn't like the person that I had become.

Now, I realize that dreams aren't real life. Maybe Freud was right and they're our subconscious speaking, but then again maybe they're just random electrical impulses that happen during REM sleep. In fact, the evening before I had actually encouraged a person to attend a different church because they already knew people there. But sitting there in bed with the light on, the jealousy and feelings of betrayal still felt so real. Sometimes I hate being part of the church.

And sometimes I love being part of the church. That evening we had a "united" meeting for Maundy Thursday. It was a Love Feast, which sounds like an orgy or something, but is actually a communion service with an emphasis upon reconciliation. We were instructed to take the bread and grape juice and serve it to someone else in the congregation. It was a beautiful experience with smiles, hugs, and even a few tears. It was one of those magical times when I really felt a sense of joy and wonder about being part of God's people. And I think everybody else did, too.

FRIDAY:

This was the meeting that I organized. I had been thinking a lot about what it means to be a peacemaker. I thought that one of the ways I could "make peace" in our churches regarding the combined meetings would be to make sure that everyone was represented at the service. The pastor from the Hispanic church sat in with our church's band and played some hymns and modern worship tunes. Some kids from the Hispanic church did a dance to a Spanish tune. The pastor from the traditional church sang a hymn to piano accompaniment. I did a multimedia presentation showcasing artwork of Christ's passion. So many tensions arise out of three churches being on top of one another, but at least for one night we were just one big church.

SUNDAY:

Sunday saw our family try something new that I hope becomes a tradition: we spent Easter in a bar. My cousin owns a moderately successful tavern and invited us all over for dinner. It was a relaxed way to spend the holiday, with plenty of conversation and laughter. Bars have a good way of loosening people up, and I wonder if the Women's Christian Temperance Union gave all of us Protestants a raw deal when they got us to give up drinking for the good of society.

In the Christian tradition, Holy Week is all about death and resurrection. I got to experience a little of both.