This Holy Week

Dear friends,

Pastors always have to be just a bit ahead of the curve, calendar-wise. We’re only midway through Lent, but I’m thinking about Holy Week.

The week begins, of course, with Palm Sunday. It is our tradition as Lutheran Christians to hear the story of the passion of Christ on that day—from the triumphal entry into Jerusalem, through the last supper, the arrest and trial of Jesus, all the way to the crucifixion. It is the opportunity we have to reflect on the whole sweep of the story, before we focus especially on the individual parts.

Maundy Thursday we go once again to the upper room, and hear the story of Christ’s last evening with his disciples before his death. The shadow of the cross looms ahead, but in this moment he is with his friends, sharing himself completely with them.

Good Friday we travel to Calvary and watch the awful and yet awesome events unfold. A contemporary hymn invites us to "wonder and stare"—a great set of words, it seems to me. We cannot help but stare at the Lamb of God. We cannot help but wonder at the great love with which he loved us.

Easter Eve we join in the great Vigil of Easter. This is one of the most remarkable services of the entire Christian year, and if you’ve not experienced it, I would like to urge you to join us this year. We begin in darkness, hearing lessons which quickly trace the entire history of our salvation. This leads us to the Font, where, on this great night, we will witness the Sacrament of Holy Baptism. We conclude with the glad alleluias of resurrection.

Easter Sunday is the highest of days for us, and we will celebrate it with joy and thanksgiving, singing, "Christ is arisen!"

The best way to express our faith in the crucified and risen Lord is to be there for each of these services. I’m saddened, and perhaps a bit mystified, by how few people commit themselves to taking this whole journey during Holy Week. The largest number, of course, simply come on Easter Sunday, and perhaps Palm Sunday. Many more seem to pick either Maundy Thursday or Good Friday, but not both. Only a hardy few manage the Easter Vigil.

I was doing a little calculating. If one were to attend all these services of Holy Week, it would involve a commitment of about the same amount of time as two or three movies, or a couple of evenings watching television. I like movies and TV as much as the next guy, but when it comes to priorities, I think I’d rather place mine on remembering the passion, death and resurrection of my Lord. We sing, "Were you there when they crucified my Lord?" but the majority of Christians have to say, "Well, no, we had too many other things to do that week."

And of course there is more to it than merely "remembering." In these liturgies of Holy Week, we experience anew these events of our salvation. We are there. We do wonder and stare. It is called Holy Week because it is a holy time, the holiest time of the year for those of us who have been baptized into the death and resurrection of Christ.

And so I invite you, encourage you, urge you: join us this year. Go to dark Gethsemane, follow to the judgment hall, Calvary’s mournful mountain climb, early hasten to the tomb. I promise you, you will find it a blessing to walk with Christ during this holiest of weeks.

Peace to you,

Pastor Richard O. Johnson

Classic Prayers

Father in Heaven! Hold not up our sins against us, but hold us up against our sins, so that the thought of thee when it wakens in our soul—and each time it wakens—should not remind us of what we have committed but of what thou didst forgive; not of how we went astray but of how thou didst save us! Amen.

--Søren Kierkegaard (1813-1855)

Danish philosopher

From the Associate Pastor

Let’s give a hand to the Property Committee for the great job they are doing. This past Saturday several men ripped and tore_bushes out of the ground around the church campus. Soon they will be planting some plants in their place but it already looks better.

The Property Committee, headed by Dick Jarvis, does a tremendous amount of work in keeping our facility in top shape; from trimming trees to painting to termite inspection. It takes a lot of work for proper upkeep.

Right now Jarvis is unplugging a toilet in the men’s bathroom. A fellow pastor had analogy about washing feet and changing the wax ring in a commode. Essentially, they were the same thing, stinky and messy but real service was always stinky and messy. Jesus says to do the stinky and messy things in life. I give thanks for Dick Jarvis doing the stinky, messy service. I pray that we all bend down and struggle with the wax rings in our lives that need service.

Grace and Peace,

Pastor Dean

Liturgy Notes: Good Friday

The special observance of Good Friday, the day of Christ’s crucifixion, is a very ancient part of Christian tradition. There is evidence that Christians marked this day as early as the second century, and by the fourth century there were many traditions surrounding it. The day has had many names through the centuries. Originally it was called the “Day of Preparation” (after the Jewish practice of so designating the day before the Sabbath). The Germans call it “Karfreitag” (Day of Mourning), the Norwegians “Long Friday”, the Slavic nations “Great Friday” and the Latin nations “Holy Friday.” Only in English and Dutch is the term “Good Friday” used, and the reasons are lost in history. It may have originally been called “God’s Friday” (in the same way that our “Goodbye” originally was “God be with you”). But the use of the term “Good” is a provocative and somewhat jarring title for the most somber day in the Christian calendar. It reminds us that even in the midst of the pain and suffering of the crucifixion, our salvation was being accomplished--and that is good!

Good Friday has traditionally been a day of fasting. Philip Pfatteicher has observed that “even after the Reformation in Germany, many Lutherans who observed no other fast scrupulously kept Good Friday with strict fasting.” In this way, Christians reminded themselves of the suffering of Christ on their behalf.

The Good Friday liturgy has traditionally been simple, yet very moving. Many of the usual parts of the worship service are deleted. The sanctuary, having been “stripped” on Maundy Thursday, is stark and bare. There is generally no music except the singing of hymns. Traditionally the service focuses on the passion story according to St. John. As early as the fourth century, it was John’s account that was used on this day--perhaps because of its drama, and its emphasis on the glory of Christ our King even in death.

Certain prayers and hymns are also especially associated with Good Friday. One ancient hymn--usually spoken, not sung--is called the “Reproaches.” In this beautiful and moving poem, we hear the voice of Christ, asking his people why they have abandoned him: “I gave you a royal scepter, and bestowed the keys of the kingdom, but you have given me a crown of thorns...I pray that all may be one in the Father and me, but you continue to quarrel and divide...” In these words, we hear with grief the list of the ways that we continue to crucify him today--as well as the grace that continues to love and forgive us.

Perhaps the hymn most closely associated with Good Friday is “O Sacred Head Now Wounded”, Paul Gerhardt’s text based on an earlier work of Bernard of Clairvaux. The melody, by Hans Hassler, has been a favorite of Lutherans for centuries; it was especially beloved by Johann Sebastian Bach, who used it in many of his cantatas and oratorios. As much as any other Lutheran hymn, it has become the “common property” of Christians of all churches.

Many churches use the service of Tenebrae on Good Friday. Dating back to medieval times, this service features the gradual extinguishing of the lights as a graphic representation of the events surrounding Christ’s death (Tenebrae is Latin for “shadows”).

Despite the solemnity and austerity of the day’s worship, Good Friday’s primary accent is not grief and mourning but wonder and love. Christ was crucified, for us and for our salvation. One verse from “O Sacred Head” says it all:

“What language shall I borrow

To thank thee, dearest friend.

For this thy dying sorrow

Thy pity without end?

Oh make me thine forever

And should I fainting be

Lord, let me never, never

Outlive my love for thee.”