We begin by knowing that we won't be together, physically gathered in one place. We no longer need to feel guilt about all the worship opportunities we will miss. Maybe we will remember this hunger when we are able to gather in person again.
Palm Sunday has always reminded us that life is precarious, but for many of us, life has never felt more personally precarious than right now. We're told that the unemployment rate will likely surpass that of the Depression--we are now where we were in the depths of the Great Recession. We know that many hospitals were at capacity before the pandemic began.
This morning as I journaled, I thought about palms, both the tree and the part of our hands. I remembered one of my favorite images of God, from Isaiah 49:15, which tells us that our names are written on the palms of God.
Palm Sunday offers us some serious reminders. If we put our faith in the world, we're doomed. If we get our glory from the acclaim of the secular world, we'll find ourselves rejected sooner, rather than later.
But Holy Week offers us a different vision than the one the world issues. Holy Week recognizes that although we may suffer, God has promised resurrection.
God promises that all the deaths of this world will not have the final word. That's true, even in a time of economic implosion and a plague that's on the move.
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