Those posts won't happen. There's too much going on at the moment to do them justice.
Palm Sunday is all about the occasion when Jesus Christ rode into Jerusalem in triumph, at the culmination of his Earthly ministry. There was a great deal of rejoicing and acclamation. It was a wonderful occasion.
Except that we know that, five days later, the crowds had turned ugly, the closest disciples of Jesus had denied ever knowing him, and Jesus himself had been tortured and executed by the occupying Romans. The story was over, the wonderful adventure that was the story of Jesus was over. Finished.
No-one could have guessed how the story could continue.
Only the story wasn't finished, do you see? Everything we'd heard up til then was overture, was first act. Three days of interval, and then on Easter Morning the real story starts. A few weeks after that, at Pentecost, it gets really exciting. And the story's still going now.
But that wasn't evident in the events of the first six days of Holy Week.
On the Wednesday after Easter, I'm going to Washington DC. There will be a great deal of rejoicing and acclamation. It'll be a wonderful occasion. And then a week and a bit later, I have to say goodbye and come home again.
Neither of us knows how the story's going to continue.
I hope and trust that the real story starts not long after that. I hope and trust that, a little later, it'll get really exciting. And I hope and trust that, in years to come, the story will still be going.
But how? That's just not evident at the moment.
I always feel awful on Good Friday. If you have the poor fortune to encounter me on that day, be patient. I'll feel better on Sunday.