Dear Ministers,

When I think about the two central events of the year that demand our care and attention, they are Christmas and Holy Week. Christmas can be considered to have greater emotional weight because it is coupled with all the holiday sentiments, gifts, and parties.

Holy Week is a beast unto its own. It demands so much of our attention and care as the week overflows with complex rubrics found nowhere else in the liturgical year.

I spent my formative years living Holy Week as a Church musician, immersed in the relentless, beautiful chaos of choir rehearsals and liturgical planning. It was a season of profound formation, when I learned the art of nudging, negotiating, and cultivating compassion in ministry.

Later in life, I spent several years serving as Master of Ceremonies for Archbishops, Cardinals, and other prelates, which formed me to move with grace and elegance through the Church’s most solemn liturgies.

I look back on all those years with profound gratitude; it shaped my theological worldview and forged a more committed, compassionate faith in me. Now, I am deeply grateful to experience these holy days from the pew alongside my wife and sons. Celebrating as a family creates precious memories that I will treasure long after they are gone.

I am writing this to share how much you are loved, and to affirm that you are truly seen and deeply valued in the body of Christ. I hope these words bring encouragement to your heart.

Your dedication is deeply appreciated. While much of your service happens behind the scenes, it does not go unnoticed. Your care for detail and warm hospitality mean the world! Your ministry not only means much to those you serve, but also to those walking through our doors to reconnect with God this season. Thank you for making this sacred space a welcoming home.

I encourage you to take time for yourself, even if the demands of preparation make that feel impossible. Please try to rest, take a walk to clear your mind, or simply arrive ten minutes early to be with God in the quiet of the church. By nurturing yourself, you ensure that your life is a true sacrifice of praise, allowing you to give others the best of you.

Finally, let’s remember that Easter will burst open into fifty days of unending joy. If things go off-script, that’s okay. The elect will make it to baptism, many will be confirmed, and we will all feast at the Eucharist. That is what counts!

God does not want performance; God wants our hearts. Give God your love if the cantor goes flat in pitch, the usher moves a little slow, someone forgets the towels for the footwashing, the livestream is delayed, or you grab a last-minute person to carry in the palms at the start of holy week. In all this, love God’s people.

Give God your heart, as you do year in and year out; you matter in the Body of Christ, and together we journey to everlasting life.