Holy Weekend

I'm having an appropriately holy Holy Week, or at least Holy Weekend.

Last night, I took part at my church in a very moving drama called Women of the Cross. Written by our pastor, and directed by our brilliant Rebecca Glancy, the play presents four women who were important in the life of Jesus, now gathered together at the foot of the cross to wait with him during his final hours. At first I was disappointed that I wasn't cast as Mary, or Mary Magdalene, or the mother of Zebedee's sons; instead I was a composite character representing the faith of all the many women touched by Jesus - the mother-in-law of fisherman Peter, the Canaanite woman whose daughter suffers from demon possession, the daughter of Jairus the ruler, and others. But as we rehearsed, I came to enjoy inhabiting all this different characters, and I couldn't have imagined the other roles played by anyone other than Amy, Michelle, or Carolyn.

I was surprised at how moved I felt during the performance itself, a tribute to the compelling performances of my fellow actresses. I found myself wanting to reach out and hold Mary's hand, to lean against the shoulder of Mary Magdalene, to nod with painful sympathy as Mrs. Zebedee shared the story of her wrongful ambition for her two sons. Just to sit in company with these other women, waiting, watching, never giving up faith that something wonderful could come out of this terrible suffering.

And now it's Holy Saturday. Our church has a huge community egg hunt this morning, and then I attend a Jewish friend's seder, which is always a wonderful event. Then, tomorrow morning, I have the option of going with the youth group at 4:30 a.m. to the Easter sunrise service down at Red Rocks, but I have a feeling I'm not going to do that. Instead, I'll help with our children's worship service, Where the Wild Things Worship, at 9:15, and go to big people's church at 10:15, where the sanctuary will be resplendent with lilies and other flowers of spring, and we'll sing "Christ the Lord Is Risen Today."

And I'll imagine how those women of the cross would have felt on that day of resurrection. And be glad that I was part of their community for a precious hour yesterday evening.