What makes this week different from any other? On Monday morning, school buses rumbled down my road at the same hour they do every weekday morning. The pets insisted on being fed, oblivious to Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem on Sunday. Businesses are open, people commute to work, the relentless news cycle blares headlines both harrowing and heartening.
But for those of us who follow him, who’ve been saved by his grace and professed our faith in the Messiah born in Bethlehem, our most mundane tasks provide opportunity for praise, purpose and the divine to be recognized, even revealed.
We hand over our donkey because Jesus needs it. We throw our coat on the road in recognition of his reign. We procure a space for disciples to sit and eat, knowing Jesus will join them and us whenever we gather. We perform humble acts of service with reverent care because when we do, we show our love for the One who inexplicably first loved us. We care about all the children on all the school buses today and each day because Jesus told us to welcome them and not dare dismiss them or send them away. We pack the lunch and put the clothes in the wash and attempt to treat each person we meet with the dignity deserving of those for whom Christ will die this Friday.
We don’t so much agonize over the obliviousness of those who do not know this week is Holy as we seek to live the truth that because of the birth, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ no week, no one, nowhere is ever God-forsaken. We relish the reality that because of this week every week becomes a gift imbued with the possibility to bear witness to the One who came that all might have life and have it abundantly.
This week, so extraordinary, makes every other week in its wake holy and our every act now an offering of thanks to the One whose sacrifice saved the world, whether they know it or not.