Holy week comes around once a year. I find myself still adjusting to these Lutheran, liturgical traditions. Easter growing up was a time for fun baskets and matching dresses with my sisters. I do not actually remember those times, only the pictures of them.
Lent for me is becoming a “leaning in” to the end of winter. Holy week here is totally different from where we came from. I don’t mean to make every telling a comparison to the previous times in life, but it’s almost as if I cannot help it. With every year comes the older memories of previous years. With every year I find an even lovelier hope.
I remember Lent being such a long and lonely time. This year we keep talking about how fast Lent has flown. Holy week in Hoyleton was always something I wanted to be special, and it was, but it was special in a different way. It was more of a private and personal journey than a memorable family one. I learned more from the Lenten Scripture readings than I did at any other time in the year. I still remember the time my mind was blown when I first realized Jesus was crucified on the same day as Passover.
How in the world had I never before known this???
Our church holds evening services every evening in Holy Week. From Palm Sunday through Easter Sunday you could go to church ten times if you include both Easter services. It’s something we look forward to every night as a family, not in the sense that we’re jumping for joy with excitement to go to church, but it’s just the thing everyone knows we’re going to do. I try to set apart the days here at home, with some palm leaves here, and a crown of thorns there. But Lent doesn’t come nearly as naturally for me.
I still don’t like it.
But every new year I am happy it comes.