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.
Navel-gazing about blogging
21 hours ago