April has come and gone....

Here it is, just two day left in April and looking over my shoulder I'm not quite sure where all those other days went.

This month, Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey. We all waved palm branches, morned his death and celebrated his resurrection. Meanwhile my daughter celebrated her twelfth birthday. Twelve is the last year of childhood, the time of coming of age novels, so one can understand the excitement that comes with being twelve. Though for my daughter this birthday meant one thing, riding in the front seat of my car. It's a good thing she didn't ask for too much else.

Yes, there was a flurry of activity this month, but the skies did not bring April showers to Texas. There have been wild fires to the north of our buyou and our grass has turned from a lush green to a crunchy brown. We had so much rain this fall that I think we all got a little over confident and tricked ourselves into believing that with enough humidity we could all avoid death, but we can't avoid the patterns that keep the circle of life circling.

Wrestling with Resurrection

I came to church as a pagan this Easter, though wearing a Christian skirt and white blouse, and sat in a the balcony and ran the power point slides that project all our hymns and confessions on big screens, and there I was, a skeptic in the hen house, thinking weaselish thoughts.

This often happens around Easter. God, in His humorous way, sometimes schedules high holy days for a time when your faith is at low tide, a mud flat strewn with newspapers and children's beach toys, and while everyone else is all joyful and shiny among the lilies and praising up a storm, there you are, snarfling and grumbling. Which happened to me this year.

God knows all about it so I may as well tell you. Holy Week is a good time to face up to the question: Do we really believe in that story or do we just like to hang out with nice people and listen to organ music? There are advantages, after all, to being in the neighborhood of people who love their neighbors. If your car won't start on a cold morning, you've got friends.

I don't think it will come as a shock to anyone who has read the Christan Gospels that clearly, no one knows what really happened that first Easter Sunday. Anyone who can count may wonder how we fit three days between a death on Friday night and a resurrection on Sunday morning. Did God not mean three literal twenty four hour time periods? The Jews got stone tablets and the Mormons arranged for an angel to bring them their holy text, but ours was hammered out through a long contentious political process, sort of like the tax code, and that's something you don't care to know more about.

This Saturday I gathered in a circle of old friends to reflect on Easter. Turns out, they don't believe that a physical resurrection took place. There is so much power in the symbol, isn't that enough? So many stories in the bible are symbolic, why does this one have to be real? If the story wasn't meant to be literal, 2,000 years of believers have gotten something fundamentally wrong. Something deep inside me says there are some very logical people trying to have everything both ways. He was either God incarnate or he wasn't. He was either physically raised from the dead or he just died. What happens to the story when you chop off the fairy tale ending?

There is comfort for the doubter in the Passion story. You are not alone. Jesus's cry from the cross was a cry of incredulity. The apostle denied even knowing Jesus three times. The guy spent years with Jesus, saw the miracles up close, the raising of Lazarus, the demons cast out, the sick healed, the water-walking trick, all of the special effects, but when the cards were down, he said, "Who? Me? No way." He repented. I would too, but not quite yet. Skepticism is a stimulant, not to be repressed. It is an antidote to smugness and the great glow of satisfaction one gains from being right.

You know the self-righteous — I've been one myself — the little extra topspin they put on the truth, their ostentatious modesty, the pleasure they take in being beautifully studied and cool and correct when others are falling apart. Jesus was rougher on those people than He was on the adulterers and prostitutes. So I will sit in the doubter's chair for a while and see what is to be learned back here.

Eostre and Peanut Butter Cups

Tomorrow is Easter Sunday in the Christian Church, the holiday that celebrates Jesus' resurrection from the dead. Easter is one of the few floating holidays in the calendar year, because it's based on the cycles of the moon. Jesus was said to have risen from the dead on the first Sunday after the first full moon of spring. For that reason, Easter can fall as early as March 22nd and as late as April 25th.

The word "Easter" comes from an ancient pagan goddess worshipped by Anglo Saxons named Eostre. According to legend, Eostre once saved a bird whose wings had frozen during the winter by turning it into a rabbit. Because the rabbit had once been a bird, it could still lay eggs, and that rabbit became our Easter Bunny. Eggs were a symbol of fertility in part because they used to be so scarce during the winter. There are records of people giving each other decorated eggs at Easter as far back as the 11th century.

Now, if you will excuse me, I have one more sleep until I can break into a bag of Reeses Peanut Butter Cups ..... chocolate and peanut butter here I come!

Today is Good...

Today is Good Friday, commemorating the crucifixion, the oldest Christian celebration.

Just Now

by W. S. Merwin

from Good Poems for Hard Times [Garrison Keillor]

In the morning as the snow begins to blow away

the clear sky appears for a moment and it seems to me

that there has been something simpler than I could believe

simpler than I could have begun to find words for

not patient not every waiting nor more hidden

than the air itself that became part of me for a while

with every breath and remained with me unnoticed

something that was there unnamed unknown in these days

and the nights not separate from them

not separate from them as they came and were gone

it must have been here neither early nor late then

by what name can I address it now holding out my thanks

Today is Maundy Thursday

Today is Maundy Thursday, or Holy Thursday, commemorating the Last Supper Jesus held with his disciples before his arrest and crucifixion. The name "Maundy" comes from the Latin word Mandatum, or commandment, because at the Last Supper Jesus gave his disciples a new commandment: to love one another.

Mary Poppins and Alice
United Kingdom, Epcot
~by Katy, 2007

Dispatch from the Palm Sunday Trenches

If your church is anything like mine, we call in reinforcements when Palm Sunday rolls around. The call goes out to all able bodied adults: "ALL HANDS ON DECK! We are about to hand 400+ children palm branches. Only YOU can stop the blood shed!"

Now, with younger children finding parents to help is not a hard job. Before the age of 8, most parents are convinced that every child EXPECT theirs is crazy and can not be trusted with sharp objects. They will volunteer in a fool hardy attempt to protect their little one. The problem is, the older the children are, the longer their parents have been involved in the process of raising kids. The more they realize that ALL children are evil, including theirs, and they want nothing more than to be as far away from the fray as possible. Parents have dispensed of the "please don't... " and go straight for the "I can and will kill you!" attitude.

I suppose it was with this hart that our lovely Palm Sunday volunteers arrived in my room of 4th and 5th graders. I had already sat them down for a pep talk about waving the palm branches with energy. You see, at this age, its not really that they will try to kill each all with palm whips, its that they are just "too cool" to be seen waving a palm branch with an expression that might be mistaken for joy or even mild amusement. I talked about remembering the reason we are doing this. To celebrate Jesus. That I understand the exercise seems juvenile, but we have to remember that little kids and blue haired church ladies love this kind of thing. Do you want to be responsible for crushing the dreams of blue haired church ladies and small innocent children? So when you are out there waving your palm, think about the spirit and meaning of what you are doing. I want you to try and think about the kind of spirit that Jesus would want you to have while you are out there setting an example for the little kids. Remember, this is a celebration so act like you are having fun.

But my Palm Sunday volunteers were running late. They had missed this pep talk. They had missed seeing the boys agree that they would at least attempt to not look pissed off while they waved palm branches. Instead they volunteers saw 40 excited kids fighting for the best spot in line. They saw yammering and fart jokes being passed around. Eyeing the boxes of donuts I had stacked up in the corner, one volunteer took what she felt was preemptive action.

"I see that there are donuts waiting for you when you come back to the room. Just know that if you don't behave, if we have to report to Ms. Katy that you are acting too silly no one is going to get any donuts."

To which, one of my very witty 5th grade boys immediately replied:

"I don't think fear and intimidation is the kid of spirit Jesus would want us to have in our hearts while we celebrate him in church."

Never one to miss a teachable moment I immediately collapsed into laughter while the parents stood there speechless. I finally composed myself enough to say, "Garrison, you are awesome." And the class filed out the door. At least I know one kid was half way listening to what I said.

The Easter Story

Inverstion: A Houston Art Instalation

by Dan Havel and Dean Ruck,
Art League of Houston, 2005

An old house was made new, and we were forced to see the world in a different light.

He's Not Dead Yet!

Good Friday, Daisy Nook

L.S. Lowry 1946

I feel like everyone has jumped to Easter, but I am not ready to skip Good Friday just yet.

Peace and silence be with you this day.

Maundy Thursday

foot washing 1

by Matt J. Saw

Jesus did not come to our dirty world to make it clean and pure. He came to teach us love and make us whole. Today we remember the last night he spent with is disciples. The last night that he broke bread with them. The night he became their servant.

We expect it to find us one day. The grandeur of peace and grace. Its out there. Somewhere. We just need to grab it. Capture it in a jar. Hold it in our arms. What he forget is that its is there. Here. Already. We are loved even though our feet are still dirty. We are loved not because we have been made clean, but because being clean was never a goal to begin with.

The Journey Continues

Lent has arrived. I attended an Ash Wednesday service yesterday morning. I was short and sweet. Two song and a 5 minute cartoon before we had communion and had ashes smeared on our foreheads in the shape of a cross. Honestly the only time I felt weird about it was when I was on the bus, both coming and going. I was aware of all of the different people around me. Aware that many of them are probably not Christian. Aware that I probably looked ... odd.

Like most Christians, I don't wear my religion on my sleeve. I don't even wear a cross. I feel like the world has enough people screaming in their faces, I don't need to add to the noise. That is what a lot of evangelism is to me. Hollow noise.

Yesterday, as I got on the bus and looked at all of those faces, I wondered if I was becoming part of that noise. Upon reflection I don't think that I was. There is something to be said for the silent witnesses. Those that go about our day just trying to live how Jesus lived. Just trying to help were we are needed.

When Mother Teressa was working in the slums. Helping the poorest of the poor in a mostly Hindu population she told her fellow sisters never to mention Jesus' name. That was not why they were there. They were there to help, feed and to offer hope. She didn't need to say why she was doing her work. She was a nun. Everyone new she was married to Jesus.

After some reflection I have come to a conclusion. Yesterday was the start of Lent. The start of our journey through the wilderness before the celebration of Easter. It was also my day to show that I am one of the people who follow the teachings of Jesus.

Lent is the time where people talk about what they are going to give up or what they are going to add. Maybe someone will do more volunteer work, maybe a person will stop eating chocolate or drinking sodas. Richard Rorh has challenged people to give up the need to be right. I'm not sure what I am giving up this year. If it will be anything at all. I'm really just focused on continuing the Journey.

Equinox

Backyard, by Katy © 2008

Today is an anomaly. I haven't looked it up, but I'm sure that this kind of thing only happens once in ever million years. Today is Holy Thursday and the Spring Equinox. Today is the only day of the year that there will be the exact same amount of sunlight that there is moonlight. From here on out there will be more light than darkness.

I find it really interesting that this day should correspond with Holy Thursday. The day that Jesus washed the feet of his disciples and shared the last supper. Interesting that this event is remembered, this year on the day that a new season is officially here. In many ways, I think we can say, that the last super was the closing of one chapter and the starting of another. It was the first time in the Gospels that we hear Jesus giving his "what will happen to you all when I die" talk to the disciples. It is a dark time. For him, spring has not yet come.

In Spring, we celebrate new life. Bunnies are shagging and eggs are hatching, reminding us that after darkness, winter, the reflection of advent, and fasting of lent, there is new life to be had. We are growing and changing.

It is an odd feeling tonight. Odd that we celebrate the joy of the Earth, yet still reserve the remembrance of the struggles that are still a head. In way this joy of Spring is a good reminder of how the disciples really felt on this night. We see it as the last super. We listen to Jesus prepare for his death. They didn't see it that way. This was a celebration. They were still riding the high of Palm Sunday. They were celebrities and they were feasting with their messiah. It is a good reminder that today is a day of joy. The sorrow comes tomorrow.

On a slightly less related note, but a new beginning all the same, I got a new camera today. The "new battery" idea didn't work. So now, a whole new challenge of photography with a whole new camera.

Holy Week

Holy week started yesterday with Palm Sunday. We celebrated Jesus coming to Jerusalem with the same caiose that comes with ushering 300 children into the sanctuary. The hard part is making them look angelic while they sward fight with palm branches they are suppose to be waving. I have always wondered who started that tradition. I don't think anyone has ever stepped forward to take the blame. If they did, I'm sure every children's minister would burn their likeness in effigy. This year we were treated to some extra excitement. One of the women in the choir fainted right before the service, as she sat in the choir loft. I was in the back hall with a group of palm wavers. As the EMS ran past us to revive her, the 3rd grade boys decided she was probably already dead. She wasn't. Much to their disappointment, she wasn't even wheeled out on the gurney.

I have made a huge amount of progress on the car. One side has the full rainbow on it. It looks spectacular. Alex did an awesome job helping me with it. I think the green could use another coat, but passed that I'm ready to move to the other side. I would have gotten more done, but Alex had softball practice. She couldn't find her glove and ended up grabbing a right handed one. Well she told me this as we walked out on the field. I didn't have shoes on and I was covered in paint. No problem, I ran home to get a left handed one. I could only find the one my sister had used, which is probably two sizes too big for A at the moment. Since I had already run home and back once I decided to stay and help fetch the balls the girls had let slip by them. Barefoot of course. I'm sure the coach just thought I was a mess.

I would have pictures of all of this, but my camera isn't working. Its charged, but won't turn on. I have dropped it several times. Once on the concrete of Epcot, so I know that if its truly broken its all my fault. I am getting $400 back from the government (thank god for medical deductions!) but I would rather not spend that on a camera. I'm going to try and replace the battery first. It may be a fool's earned, but I'm desperate.