Friday, 18 April 2014

Holy Week

Last Sunday was Palm Sunday so of course we were given little palm crosses.  At the end of the service of eucharist we walked out the back door in procession waving our crosses and saying, "Hosanna".  We just marched down the street and back inside the hall at the back of the church but it felt like we were living the Gospel reading for that day.

I took the Sunday School kids out for a lesson on the story of the days this Holy Week before the glory of Easter.  They made crayon-resist hard-boiled eggs.  Eggs symbolize new life and the rolling of the round stone from the front of Jesus' tomb.  We put them on the after-service snacks table in a basket for a decoration, but parishioners kept taking them and putting them in their pockets.  
I would say gently,  "I think the children want you to see their art work but, they also want to take them home."  It was fun to watch the expressions on faces as they reached into their pockets and put them back in the basket.  They were on the table with the muffins and cheese and crackers so it was understandable.  I think another year I would let the children keep their best favorite art project egg and offer the rest to the (mostly older pensioners) that wanted them.  

I just returned from the Maundy Thursday evening foot washing and eucharist.  

It is a sombre but spirit-filled time. 

However, I am not looking forward to going to the Abbey tomorrow for the Good Friday service at 10:00 AM.  It is a dark service but we need the reminder that life isn't all bluebells and balloons.  But still I dread that service.  The United Church joins us this week for the Maundy foot-washing and Good Friday service.  We are asked to leave quietly, without socializing.  I will be so glad when we can have flowers on the altar again.  For the 40 days of Lent each year we only put greenery in the altar vases.
I will be so glad, when on Easter morning, we can say "Alleluia" to each other again at the end of the 40 days of Lent.  

1 comment:

  1. All the darkness leads us to that wondrous celebration. I am still humbled to think of the pain and suffering Jesus endured for me/us. What a wonderful gift.

    Blessings to you, Karyn!