One is supposed to associate Easter with life, resurrection. But I instinctively think of 4/4 as the date of death, specifically the death of Martin Luther King, Jr. Interestingly, the first Easter landing on 4/4 after MLK's assassination in 1968 didn't take place until 1999. Then, there's 2010, 2021, and then not until 2083, when I'll be 110. Gotta reframe here.
I also feel lousy (chills, sore throat), though better than a couple days ago, when I had to forgo the Maundy Thursday service, so that doesn't help. I need to go through the agony to get to the ecstasy, I suppose.
Easter is also discombobulated for me this year because I won't be at my church for it. One gets comfortable with one's own ritual, understandably. Working on getting to that Jacquie Lawson electronic card feeling. Or something like that.
In a sermon a few weeks ago, the guest preacher asked us to each think of the person we dislike the most. After considering Pat Robertson and Rush Limbaugh, Glenn Beck was the person I finally settled on. After a few seconds, she proclaimed, "Remember, God loves that person as much as He loves you!" Ouch, does that poke a finger in one's faith, perhaps.
One of the things I will miss is people from the congregation joining with the choir to sing Halleluhah! by Handel. So, in that tradition, Hallelujah Chorus by silent monks.
Mick Fleetwood is turning 70
23 hours ago