It is close to the start of Passover in 33 CE.  Jeremiah and his family had a land inheritance of about four acres that they worked by hand.    They had a few fruit and nut trees.   The neighbors had similar sized farms.   The small community shared a well for household water, which naturally served as a meeting point.    They were poor by city standards, but managed to survive on the small farms.  The last few years had been hard, and the tax on their farm was keenly felt.  They were too poor and too far away to make the trip to Jerusalem for Passover, so the family usually celebrated the Seder together at home.  The date of the Seder was determined by observations in Jerusalem, and the information never seemed to arrive in time.  So, they took their best guess.  This year they didn’t have a lamb, just a few goats, so there would be no sacrifice of a lamb.  The work on the farms was tough work, and they were falling behind, so this year they decided on celebrating the Seder on the Sabbath, it was close anyway, and they hadn’t heard from Jerusalem yet on the exact day.   Today they were busy getting ready for the Sabbath and finishing up the weekly work on the farm.

As noon approached a dust storm seemed to arise out of nowhere, blotting out the sun.  It made working in the fields difficult, so they abandoned their work, picked up the tools and headed back to the house.  Preparation of the Seder was in progress as the family gathered.   Somewhere around mid-afternoon the dust storm stopped and the earth trembled.   Three years ago there had been an earth quake, and the community had to make some repairs to the houses.  So they took note and waited.  The earth quake stopped and they didn’t see any damage to the houses.   They breathed a sigh of relief.

The sun set and they had the Seder, memorializing Israel’s escape from bondage in Egypt.   One of Jeremiah’s sons had sold some grain in the local village, so after dinner conversation centered on the gossip he had heard about the goings on in Jerusalem.  No one around the table had ever been to Jerusalem, so the stories of the Temple and large buildings strained their ability to even imagine the sight.  There were always rumors of messiahs, and this Passover was no exception.  The idea of a messiah that would really make a difference seemed a flight of fantasy. For the subsistence farmer the more things changed the more they stayed the same, or got worse.  A good year was when nothing major happened; no drought, no famine, no soldiers tramping fields, and no death. The evening’s prayers included the hope for better times, better harvests, and for health. 

How could they know that on Golgotha the Messiah they gossiped about had been hung on a tree and died?  They could not know what that death would portend for the world, it was just another Saturday.  Sunday, Easter Sunday, they would go back to work their fields.  How long would it be until they knew of the events and what it meant?

Stories take on a different meaning when you know the ending.  On Good Friday, we know that Easter is just a few days away.  We know that the disciples will establish a church that will spread though out the world.    Jeremiah knew nothing of this story as it was happening.  Perhaps Jeremiah and his community will hear of the news as gossip reaches the village.  Jeremiah cannot know what future possibilities were brought into being on that day.  

We are probably unaware of some of the real changes that are becoming possible because of what is happening today, either good or bad.   We may not even know the major events, which will be for historians to reveal.  We see the dust storm and earthquake, but like Jeremiah, we do not yet know the ultimate significance of recent events.  For most of us, we are physically separated from our church, just as Jeremiah and his family are separated from the Temple.  Like Jeremiah, we can live in the present and celebrate Lent as best we can with our families.  We know not what the future will bring.   

Since the 15th century the Seder ends with the phrase “Next year in Jerusalem.”  Let’s take that as a reflection of hope that we will be reunited next year.   May it be so.