Midweek Musing: Hey, Zanna! Hosanna! Zanna, Zanna HEY!
If you were just listening to the inside of my brain, you might think I was in a crazy time loop where I get up and every day is Palm Sunday. Imagine Bill Murray, waking up yet again in Punxsutawney, Sonny and Cher on the radio and it’s time to see how a giant rodent predicts the coming year’s weather. Except don’t. It is totally different in my case. I think.
You know (or should by now) I’m a fan of Jesus Christ Superstar. We’ve discussed this. And lately, the words from the Palm Sunday scene of the early ‘70’s film has been on repeat in my head. Especially these lines:
Sing a song for me but not for me alone.
Sing for yourselves! For you are blessed.
I could just be annoyed by them, but they aren’t coming out of an alarm clock radio, so I can’t just pick it up and chuck it out the window. We’re talking about my head, people. So, I’m embracing these sung words as prayer.
The phrase #blessed has been thrown and strewn all over the place as of late, but the truth is we’re probably misusing it. (Surprise, surprise.) After all, Jesus preached in his famous sermon on the mount: “Blessed are the poor, the meek, the persecuted.” Sing for yourselves, pilgrims. You are blessed. Even if you feel like a bundle of failure. Maybe especially so.
I wasn’t going to write today. We decided, on the fly, to mix up our writing schedule this week. (Look forward to more Holy Week reflections as we step into the Triduum and Easter.) But today, according to my brain’s audio files, just needed to be heard.
And if I hadn’t put something to paper? Well, who knows? Maybe the rocks would have started singing and dancing.
Trust me. It’s in the Bible.
Happy Holy Week, Tiny Faith. Thanks for Reading.