4/12
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| Easter |
Alleluia! Christ is risen!
Christ is risen indeed!
Easter Sunday.
It’s odd not to have a sermon to preach or a church to go to on Easter Sunday. I was to have gone to Beverley Church. Not this year.
I have a lot of cooking do before my virtual meeting with my family at noon. I start with asparagus, my choice for today’s green vegetable. (Remembering how excited my friends in Germany get when it’s “spargle season,” especially the white asparagus.) I'll bake them with fresh garlic and parmesan cheese. Then my ham roast baked with a light honey glaze. I’m taking great care for the meal I will serve with my family and then only eat myself.
At noon we gather from our various quarantines. My middle son is making a dinner for he and his brother. The family brisket recipe, a reminder of Passover, and of course the cheesy potatoes,. My oldest son and his family were to have arrived from Berlin yesterday for an all too rare visit to the US. Its been two years. Sad for that not to happen. They join us on ZOOM and it’s great to see the grandkids, Roko and Karla. I have a colored egg for revery member of the family that I hold up to the camera. I’m impressed to learn that they have made Easter a big event for their family in the tradition of the kids’ mother, from Croatia. Last night, Roko made gifts for the Easter Bunny and left them in a nest. This morning, those gifts were gone replaced by gifts for Roko, like a firetruck, and chocolates. There was ham for breakfast and lamb for dinner. My son says that while most of the time, they eat a mostly vegetarian healthy diet, for some reason when there’s a holiday, there’s got to be an animal in the oven. I haven’t seen Karla since last August. She’s two years and three months now and becoming a person. It’s hard them being so far away.
I spend some time with the paper. Take a walk. And notice for the first time that the hoops are down in the park basketball court.
Had to do something get the players off the court.
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| the hoops are down |
Back home, I enjoy my dinner. I turn to Theatre Dzieci's
"A Passion: A Dramatic Choral Liturgy Unbound". For years, they came to West-Park twice a year as part of our annual liturgical year A Fool's Mass in Advent and A Passion on Palm Sunday. Their Passion digs deep into the Matthew text, touching Hebraic roots, specific and yet archetypal. We shared this with places like St. John the Divine. They were part of our life. And this year I experience the Passion on ZOOM.
It’s good to see everyone. My sister in New Jersey with her two children, my niece grown and a dancer and my nephew a student at Northeastern. There are my twin nieces in Dayton and Cincinnati and my brother outside of Dayton, his much anticipated surgery last week indefinitely postponed leaving him in continued chronic pain. It’s good to be all together, as if we were in a living room somewhere, but of course we new not. Even blue to get my mom in on sound for awhile. When I spoke to her earlier, she had been upset at not being able to be part of this gathering.
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| Easter dinner |
"A Passion: A Dramatic Choral Liturgy Unbound". For years, they came to West-Park twice a year as part of our annual liturgical year A Fool's Mass in Advent and A Passion on Palm Sunday. Their Passion digs deep into the Matthew text, touching Hebraic roots, specific and yet archetypal. We shared this with places like St. John the Divine. They were part of our life. And this year I experience the Passion on ZOOM.
It’s good to see everyone. My sister in New Jersey with her two children, my niece grown and a dancer and my nephew a student at Northeastern. There are my twin nieces in Dayton and Cincinnati and my brother outside of Dayton, his much anticipated surgery last week indefinitely postponed leaving him in continued chronic pain. It’s good to be all together, as if we were in a living room somewhere, but of course we new not. Even blue to get my mom in on sound for awhile. When I spoke to her earlier, she had been upset at not being able to be part of this gathering.
She had always been the host of our Easter gatherings, the egg hunt in her back yard, plastic eggs filled with treats and the occasional dollar, and of course chocolates from Sarris in Canonsburg, until the egg hunt moved to my sister’s backyard in Robbinsville. That’s what my boys remember. That was Easter. Even across the miles, even just on screen we feel the warmth and it’s hard to let go.
By the time, we’re done, I don’t really feel like going to CC Eve’s We Love Songwriters Open Mic. Being present in virtual reality takes a lot of spiritual and emotional energy.
I’m having trouble with any feeling of resurrection yet. Still in that in between time, when, as it says in the Creed, he descended into hell. That much I do know, he’s right here with us, in the middle of all this, in the hospitals, the shelters, the tents in Central Park, with those who suffer ,those who heal, those who risk, those who die. Here. Now.
It’s Easter.
Alleluia! Christ is risen!
Christ is risen indeed!
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