Dear Friends:
As some of you know, one of my favorite poets is the late Ann Weems, who during her life was called by some the poet laureate of the Presbyterian Church. In her collection of poems entitled Kneeling in Jerusalem is this thought-provoking gem entitled Holy Week:
Holy Week
Holy is the week ….
Holy, consecrated, belonging to God ….
We move from hosannas to horror
with the predictable ease
of those who know not what they do.
Our hosannas sung, our palms waved,
let us go with passion into this week.
It is a time to curse fig trees that do not yield fruit.
It is a time to cleanse our temples of any blasphemy.
It is a time greet Jesus as the Lord’s Anointed One,
to lavishly break our alabaster
and pour perfume out for him
without counting the cost.
It is a time for preparation ….
The time to give thanks and break bread is upon us.
The time to give thanks and drink of the cup is imminent.
Eat, drink, remember:
On this night of nights, each one must ask,
as we dip our bread in the wine,
“Is it I?”
And on that darkest of days, each of us must stand
beneath the tree and watch the dying
if we are to be there
when the stone is rolled away.
The only road to Easter morning
is through the unrelenting shadows of that Friday.
Only then will the alleluias be sung;
only then will the dancing begin.
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