Holy Week Without Church?
Thoughts for the sick, the elderly, the victims of religious abuse, and anyone else exiled from or unable to make it to church
I’m sending out a post early this week so I can focus on Holy Week. I plan to post a new podcast episode next Sunday.
I fell in love with the Episcopal Church in my early 30’s because it didn’t just celebrate Palm Sunday and Easter but also all the holy days in between. I fell for the tenderness of foot washing on Maundy Thursday; the sweet sadness of watching the congregation line up to kneel and kiss the cross on Good Friday; the late-night feast after the long (and I confess sometimes dull) Saturday evening vigil. When else at church can you eat ham and doughnuts, and drink champagne?
This year isn’t about falling in love, but falling sick. My infant and toddler have a stomach bug (I’ll spare you the details). Even if we were all healthy, it would be hard to get to evening Holy Week services which conflict with the kids’ bed time; but now it’s not just a matter of convenience, but also one of conscience. Unless we hear otherwise from the doctors (thank you to my wife to taking them there at this very moment!) going to church doesn’t seem like a good idea for them or for others whom they could infect.
So, how do you celebrate Holy Week without going to church? Of course, this isn’t just a question for parents with sick kids, but also a question for the frail and disabled, for the victims of spiritual or religious abuse who may be staying clear of church for their own healing, and for those who have to work nights and weekends.
There are lots of options. Depending on your tolerance for digital screens, many parishes livestream their worship or offer special online ministries.1 Or, at the cost of face-to-face fellowship you can join in the seasonal prayers of the church by praying from your home without going on Zoom.2 Or, perhaps with a tinge of guilt for “troubling” someone, you could call a church, let them know that you can’t make Holy Week, and ask if someone could bring you communion and say some prayers with you.
Or, you could just skip church this year all together. Just check your motives before you do so. Are you worried that the sermon will be bad? It very well may be, but the children’s choir might pierce your heart, or someone’s glorious Easter hat, or the kindness of a stranger at coffee hour. Do you feel guilty showing up on Easter when you don’t go other Sundays? Feel guilty and go anyway. Whatever voice in your head is making you feel guilty, it’s not God’s. Are you afraid that you will be disappointed by the people there and think “If these are the people of God, I’d rather stay at home?” That might happen. And your concerns might be valid and you should leave and never go back. Or, the issue might be your expectations. Don’t expect to like everyone; a few people you can trust is sufficient for staying. The others can be great teachers in learning to love those whom you find it difficult to love. Don’t expect epiphanies during the service and the heavens breaking open when you step outside. It’s enough to feel mysteriously drawn to return.
Here’s one other thought: I’m not sure how much God cares if you go to church this Holy Week. Ask God yourself. If this sounds weird or unfamiliar, here are some directions from an Episcopal priest and recovery chaplain. The lineage of this specific method goes back to the founders of AA and the Christian movements which inspired them. It’s rooted in one of the great promises of Easter: God is as present to us now in Scripture, Word, and Spirit as He was to the disciples.
Here’s what I hear when I ask God for guidance: pay attention to what stirs in you when you see Mary embrace Jesus before the cross in the trailer of The Chosen: Season 4 (2:13-2:20). Put up your Mary icons on your altar at home, then sit before them. Sit in honor of Mary. Then walk and pray the rosary. Help with your sick kids. If you’re not sick, pray the stations of the cross on Friday at noon . Figure out the rest after that. I have died, I have risen, I will come again. I’m with you to the end.
Here is a link to the Digital Mission of the Episcopal Church of New Hampshire.
If you don’t have a prayerbook or a Bible, click here for the prayers and readings for any given day.