Part of me feels like I should have posted something yesterday, it being Easter and all, the day traditionally understood by the big-C Church as the most important day of the liturgical year. (Not that most folks think of it like that these days.)
But part of me is glad I didn’t, it being Easter and all, the day traditionally understood to be the most important day of the liturgical year.
I hope yours was a good one, filled with family or friends or both. I hope it was a feast day. I hope it was Sabbath.
Our day began with a ham in the oven, sausage and egg sandwiches on English muffins for breakfast number one, a “sunrise” service in our church gym under humming fluorescent lights, scones topped with Nutella for breakfast number two (we were feasting, folks), more church, Easter lilies, and fifteen folks for dinner sitting around a table topped with Grandma Wise’s dishes and a tablecloth jury-rigged from sheets and a shower curtain. The day ended with a belly full of Swedish fish and Raisinets.
It was a good day.
And I was thankful–thankful Lent was over, thankful for the “Alleluias” of the season, which I’ve been missing, thankful for baptisms and the refrain of “He is risen!” being greeted with “He is risen indeed!” I was thankful for my grandma’s pink glass bell I took to church with me to ring during the service, thankful for a worshiping community, thankful for friends gathered to eat and laugh. I was thankful for community.
As we begin this season of feasting–a whole season, folks!–I hope you, too, are able to be thankful.
Because that’s what feasting is all about.