Holy Week

Well, I survived my first Holy Week. Barely. It was touch and go there for a couple of days, but I survived. From Palm Sunday to Easter Sunday, I led seven services and participated in three others. It was manic. We had the typical Palm Sunday service, complete with Palms (though real palms aren't as common over here...they have the palm crosses instead...which I forgot to get...so on Saturday I dashed around to the local florists to get some leafy branches!). I also had a funeral on the Wednesday of Holy Week. This was the first funeral of someone I had actually known--so it was a bit of an added challenge in the middle of the week. Thursday night we held a modified seder meal--bread and cheese in the middle of the service. It wasn't all that well attended, but those who did come enjoyed it and found meaning in it. This one was probably my favorite of the whole week. I found the intimate setting of a meal with one's friends quite touching. At one point, in extolling the love of God in Christ I felt the palpable presence of God. That hadn't happened in a while, so it was nice to return to that holy place.

On Friday, most churches in the UK will participate in some form of 'walk of witness'. Sometimes they will hold a service at the beginning or end of the walk, or both, depending on local tradition. The first one began in Horsford at 9:30a. We had a 30-minute service in the Anglican church, after which we took up the cross and processed down the main street in the village to the Methodist chapel, where we had another 30-minute service. I then dashed off to the next service that was taking place in Taverham. The Churches Together group in Drayton, Taverham and Thorpe Marriott held a walk (supposed to be a silent walk, but wasn't, I'm told) starting at each individual church and then processing together toward the Anglican church in Taverham. I arrived 15 minutes late and left 15 minutes early so I could get to the next service. I arrived in Spixworth (connected to the congregation at St. Faiths) where my Anglican colleague held a largely silent and slightly modified service around the stations of the cross. I left that service 10 mintues early so I could meet up with the Methodists in St. Faiths for our walk around the village. Interestingly enough, they refused to take a cross with them. As we prepared to leave for the walk, I asked, "So, where's the cross?" "Oh, we don't take a cross," they told me. "Well, then how do people know this is a walk of witness instead of just a bunch of people walking around the village?" A perfectly reasonable question, I thought, but apparently, I'm just an outsider trying to come in and change things. So we walked through the village (and some back fields) without a cross. At some point along the way, we met up with the Anglicans (who did have a cross) from Spixworth and processed together to the Church where we had a concluding service.

Saturday morning, the folks arrived. Saturday evening saw an 11:30 service of darkness to light. Then, Easter morning, we had a lovely service at Horsford. By the end of it all, I was exhausted. Then, that afternoon/evening, after lunch, we drove down to London to begin our holiday (more in the next post).

In any case, despite the utter exhaustion that comes with Holy Week, we can rejoice that Christ is Risen! Alleluia.