Jesus, Me and Easter

Easter is a strange time of year for me. There is a lot of suffering, there is a lot of death and there is a lot of great joy and and hope. It feels to me like a manic holiday. First I'm sad then I'm angry, then I'm full of horror, grief, anticipation, relief, and love. My wardrobe selection is a challenge anhd this year I failed to meet that challenge.

Maudy Thursday is the night that Jesus had his supper with the deciples, was betrayed and scheduled for Crucifixion. If I don't have that completely accurate please forgive me. Four years into this Christian thing and I'm still learning. Anyway the point in that Maudy Thursday is a very sad day. It is essentially a funeral.

I unfortunately tuned out the death part and instead began an early celebration for Easter. I decided to wear a very shinny very festive purple blouse. As I entered the church it didn't even dawn on me that perhaps my attire was a little pre-mature for the holiday. Dinner was served in the church to emulate the last supper that Jesus had and we all ate lasagna and salad together.

As I sat happily in my purple blouse my priest Jennifer commented, "My you look festive today".
I was flattered not comprehending her suble and tactful statement.

"Thank you very much", I said. I felt great in this blouse that I had carefully chosen for this special occasion.

As the service progressed the tone of the evening slowly began to sink in. This was NOT an Easter celebration. This was more like a funeral. I looked around at the other congregation members. They were all wearing black and looked very solemn. Suddenly it dawned on me I was dressed for Easter not Maudy Thursday. I looked like a Christmas tree bulb on of the worst nights on the Christian calender.

I turned to my husband and whispered. "Why didn't you tell me".
I felt like ripping the blouse off but even my bra was a bright neon pink.
I slunk back in the chair feeling totally inappropriate and I made a mental note. Maudy Thursday is a funeral wear black.

This Sunday at Church April 26/09

At church this Sunday (Church of the Epiphany 74th and York in Manhattan)not only did we celebrate the resurrection of Christ but we also celebrated the 12th year of ordination for Deacon Horace Whytye. I asked him about this decision that he made in his life and he nonchalantly referred to it as a calling. I wondered out loud why he didn't become a priest? That's a paid position. This man works in our church, is available to the congregation, takes care of the homeless dinner program every Wednesday night and does not receive a salary from the church.

He said simply, " I was called to be a Deacon". Just like that. He was called and he just acted. I've always admired the courage that it takes to not only receive the call but pick up the phone, and make it happen. It took him three years after that call to become our deacon and we are blessed to have him. Congratulations Horace White!!

What have you been called to do lately?

Did you act on it?

Christ is Risen ...Alleluia!

Happy Holiday's