I don't want to admit it, but I'm afraid of this Tuesday.
I never thought much about Holy Tuesday before I became a pastor. I'm still not confident about my own memories on the matter. And since I am no mystic, it's doubly troubling to admit that for the past fifteen years or so, (as long as I've been watching), Holy Tuesday has been ...
shall we say ...
difficult.
Or, to be blunt: bad things happen on Holy Tuesday.
Don't take my word for it. Do your own research.
Tuesday in Holy Week has been on an interminable run of bum luck.
Last year Notre Dame burned down.
There is no reason for this. Whatever Julius Caesar (via Shakespeare) may or may not have taught you about fearing the ides of March, this year we're in the calends of April; due to the complete weirdness of Easter's moving date, Holy Tuesday is never even the same day from year to year. How could it be cursed?
It can't be. For many good, biblical reasons.
But I am still worried, and here is why:
I have a pagan heart.
It likes to think it can be in control. For that reason, it is always trying to play God by seeing the future from the past, and then trying to manipulate the future via the present.
We all do this.
It would be so much more invigorating to stand in bold confidence, certain that whatever else may come, whatever the devil does (a few days or a few weeks ago) to eliminate our faith in the Holy Week by distracting us from its celebration, the heartbeat of the Church shall only march on.
And I do. But I don't at the same time.
So, since I find myself so incompletely able to stand, I do the other thing instead. I take the path less traveled on the other side of worry. I believe that my fears are the catalysts God sends me to teach me how to pray.
If in the past, Holy Tuesday has been synonymous with suffering, it is only all the more reason to pray on Holy Monday in thanksgiving.
For no matter how dark it may seem today, the real shadow already gave its best when it blotted out the Friday sun many, many moons ago.
And it didn't work...
...just as he said.
Beware the Jabberwock, indeed! And remember March, the ides of March...
But only as yet more examples of the birth pains of a dying creation proclaiming that the King sufficiently conquered it all already and reminding you that it will be all the more impossible to dissuade him from saving you, after all the especially hard work he did to get you to this point to begin with.
Be comforted! Those who trust in the LORD are like Mount Zion which cannot be moved.
Don't wallow in the muck.
Rev. Fisk
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