Entering Into Holy Week

This past Sunday I entered into Holy Week in a whole new way.

I'm part of a liturgical dance/movement choir at the church I attend in town. The church marked both Palm and Passion Sunday in worship. The first half of the service focused on Palm Sunday, complete with parade and processional with palms. The second half of the service, beginning with the second scripture reading and sermon, focused on Passion Sunday.

The scripture reading of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane was interpreted through dance - Jesus and the three disciples moving to the Taize chant "Stay with Me." The group had been working on the piece for a couple of weeks during short practices on Sunday afternoons. But the text didn't stay there. I've lived with the text running through my mind, my heart, and my body for two and a half weeks now. And Sunday when we were able to offer the dance in worship, I entered into Holy Week feeling the weight of desertion and shouldering a cross (literally - I danced the part of Jesus).

It's an experience I won't soon forget.

Balance

I need balance in my life. I need to escape the seminary bubble and interact with people who don't spend all day in the classroom or the library studying God, theology, and things divine.

This semester I am getting that balance on Thursday afternoons. In the afternoon, I head over to the local YMCA and teach a dance and gymnastics class for 3-5 year olds. For an hour or so, I worry about somersaults and cartwheels, first position and plie.

I laugh as they tell me stories about nursery school or getting a shot; they laugh as I make silly faces at them on the balance beam; we all laugh together as we walk as crabs and bears across the mats.

And my life seems balanced again.

Breaking Bread Together

It's the second day of Hanukkah and I'm on-call at the hospital. At sundown, I "lit" the Menorah candles (or screwed in the right light bulbs) and visited the few Jewish patients to wish them a Happy Hanukkah.

A few hours later I received a phone call from a nurse requesting a menorah for a patient's room. This patient had not shown up on the Jewish census, so I hadn't seen her earlier. I explained to the nurse that we didn't have individual menorahs for patient rooms.

Then I stopped by the patient's room and met her and her two children and her husband. I also explained to them that we didn't have any individual menorahs, but that we did have Shabbat candles that could be put in patient rooms. They requested one. When I returned, they were so grateful for the candle. They offered me some of their food and I visited with them for a little bit.

Their hospitality and generosity were so beautiful and holy. I was deeply touched.