Normally I would write a message based on this Sunday’s gospel but because of the abnormal times we live in, I decided to write a message based on the abnormal times we are now living in….

The disciples were locked up inside their house. They’d barricaded the door. Earlier that morning, they’d heard some outrageous news from some of their women friends. The women had traveled to Jesus’ grave. But when they got there, his tomb was empty! Peter and John ran to the tomb to check things out. They found it just as the women had said, Empty!…

In my homily on Sunday I mentioned the anniversary during Holy Week of the devastating fire at Holy Apostles 30 years ago. Some parishioners were sharing photos of that time—before, after and after—and it was so moving to see the photographic record of new life rising (literally) from the ashes of what had once been….

Alleluia! Christ is risen!

This year we came through an especially challenging Holy Week to the grateful celebration of Easter on Sunday, and as we are now settling into Eastertide — the period between Easter Day and Pentecost – we may be feeling even more acutely a cacophonous mix of emotions. Holy Week occurred as the New York region was experiencing perhaps the worst week of the Covid-19 crisis, and we felt the sorrow of death especially in our church. And still, Easter Day arrived! We gathered together and celebrated the Feast of the Resurrection in our Zoom house church! And we remembered that even in the darkest times, God is with us, and helps us to find the places of promise, hope, joy, and new life…..

A few years ago, I attended a teaching day where one of the presenters was a seminary professor who talked about engaging the readings we share during Holy Week. One experience she described was a Good Friday liturgy where, after the Passion Gospel was read aloud, the response in place of a spoken sermon was a piece offered in mime. She spoke of how deeply effective this was, mostly because it pointed to the truth that the reality of the story is, both literally and figuratively, beyond words….

As some of you may be aware Sunday has two names on the church calendar. Most know it by its more common name, Palm Sunday. It’s a day were it not for the Corona Virus, we would process into the church, waving palm branches and we as a congregation, singing “Hosanna,” remembering the cries of that first Palm Sunday crowd. The cry “Hosanna,” meaning, “Save us now!” It’s a picture of victory, of Joy! A procession fit for a king!….

It has been wonderful to be in contact with so many parishioners over the last two weeks; people who care deeply for one another and who have committed to strengthening connections even as we must attempt to do so remotely. It is no surprise that our community is reaching out to one another with love and care. I dare say we will never again take for granted our ability to be with one another in person!….

Last week, just before flying to New Zealand for my vacation, I wrote a meditation for this week about labyrinths. At the time, I didn’t realize how rapidly our life in the time of COVID-19 would change (and I certainly didn’t realize that my NZ trip would be cut in half, forcing my return to New York early this week!). But the concept of the labyrinth seems even more apt today than it did a week or two ago…..

Last week I had the privilege of giving a chapel talk at an independent school on the Upper West Side. The students were middle-school aged, and despite some very real generalized anxiety about coronavirus, they listened closely and respectfully as I spoke about Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen. They had studied HASK as an example in their “Love in Action” unit. I was there to make it real(er)…..