In the Good Friday service in the Book of Common Prayer, after the reading of the Passion Gospel, a rubric states flatly: “The Sermon follows.” Rubric comes from the Latin word for red, the color that these directions used to be printed in to make sure they weren’t overlooked, or spoken aloud, I suppose. A liturgical planner will develop a keen eye for the little word may since it makes the instruction optional. There is no may in the rubric about a Good Friday sermon.
Maundy Thursday begins our Easter Triduum, the three holiest days of ritual in the Christian calendar. Let me start by saying to you, gathered at home: You are not missing out on the essence of Maundy Thursday. I don’t mean this to sweep under the rug your feelings of loss and displacement, as maybe for the first time in your life you find yourself in a place other than the church on this Holy Thursday. I have those feelings in spades with you, and most all the comfort I’ve heard about it has fallen coldly on my unwilling ears. Things are not okay, you’re not here.
“Hosanna!” the people cry. This is not another word of praise like Hallelujah; they had a word for that, and it was Hallelujah. Hosanna literally means Save — a cry for help. Save us! the people cry. There’s a sense of frantic joy mixed in, like the shipwrecked crew who spot a rescue helicopter — if only the helicopter would spot them. Hosanna. In April 2020, my Hosanna feels closer to true than it ever has, particularly when I am thinking of my family full of essential workers, and my many friends in the medical community, and the vulnerable and the elderly and alone. That’s where my Hosanna has become true.
It strikes me that what’s different about the present crisis is that, while markets may be reeling, what worries us most deeply is that people, flesh and bone people, are not able to contribute their part to our common life. The images of actual lives being cut off from each other is even more vivid than plummeting market returns.
Even in this time of social distancing, we are still blessed with an abundance of social capital. We have so much love to offer one another! We have so much love to offer a whole world that needs it. Never has the Church needed to be the Church more than now.