Holy Week

  
A couple of weeks ago, in a fit of WestCoast optimism, I planted some seeds. They were fairly old, poorly stored seeds that I found at the bottem of my garden basket. I didn’t really hold much hope, but this week I spotted some signs of new life.

I wasn’t able to attend a Palm Sunday or Good Friday service this week, but I did have a chance to attend a Maundy Thursday tennabrae service at our church. I think Maundy Thursday has become my favorite service of Holy Week.

The service began in candlelight and alternated readings of the book of John and hymns. We also took the bread and wine together. After each reading, a candle was snuffed. At the end, we sat in the dark together and then left the church in the silence.

For me this service has become the most meaningful one of the week because it reminds me that for new life to grow, there must be death. 

As someone who often is more comfortable in the dark, it is so good for me to spot signs of life. Today in the garden was a perfect reminder of the victory we have in death. 

  

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