I went to a local Episcopal church for a Palm Sunday liturgy today. As Holy Week starts, I find myself really missing the rhythms and patterns of these next 7 days. In our digital world, where our devices are always demanding our attention, I've lost touch with the sacred rhythms that used to give my life a sense of meaning.
Time has become a big bully in my life, pushing me around with its constant demands and never-ending rush. The non-stop buzz of notifications, the flood of emails and messages, the pressure to be "always on" - it all gangs up to make me feel like I'm never doing enough, never catching up.
I remember the Holy Weeks of my childhood, when time seemed to move at a totally different speed. There was a seriousness and a sense of excitement in the air - the way the church looked with purple cloths, the sad sounds of the hymns, the taste of the bread and wine on Maundy Thursday. Each day had its own unique feel, its own emotional heaviness.
But now, as a grown-up in the digital age, those old rhythms feel harder and harder to grab onto. My phone beeps with urgent messages at all hours, and the constant stream of bad news from around the world makes it tough to step away and really be present. The sacred story of Holy Week - the path from Palm Sunday to Easter morning - feels more like a fading memory than something I'm actually living.
And yet, even in the middle of all this noise and confusion, I find myself longing for a different way of experiencing time. I miss the feeling of time being a gift to enjoy rather than a bossy taskmaster always telling me what to do. I miss the way the rituals and practices of Holy Week used to line up my body and soul with something bigger than the day-to-day hassles of the moment.
I miss actually walking through the Stations of the Cross, letting my body act out the story of Jesus' pain and death. I miss the soreness in my knees after an hour of prayer on Maundy Thursday, and the shock of the loud noises on Good Friday when the altar is stripped bare.
Most of all, I miss feeling like I'm part of a story way bigger than myself - a story that includes all of human history and reaches into the farthest corners of forever. In a world that feels more and more broken and crazy, I long for the groundedness that comes from knowing my little life is caught up in the great big drama of God's saving work.
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