One of the conditions of our church insurance - at least it was until Lock Down - is a weekly walk around to check inside and out that all is well.  This is then recorded by an email titled 'Church Premises Secure [Date]'.

Since Lock Down, our insurers have revised this requirement, so that, provided it is safe to do so, and within walking distance so that it may be combined with 'permitted exercise', a weekly external check is acceptable.

This morning, I set out early and as I did so pondered the journey of the women to Jesus' tomb, and found a ridiculous thought running through my mind - what would I do if I found the doors flung open!  After all, I didn't have my church keys, and it isn't permitted to enter the premises other than under very strict conditions.  I laughed at the implausibility of it all  - and yet there was just that tiny wish that I might see an angel sat on the steps or that I might meet Jesus in disguise. 

Church Premises Secure, Easter Sunday 2020

Overall that's a good thing - can you imagine filling out an insurance report saying that Jesus had burst out of the doors?! 

Usually part of the Holy Saturday ritual is the behind the scenes preparation for Easter Sunday, when lenten purple gives way to Easter gold, and I raid the supermarket for as many bunches of daffodils as I can get.

Not so this year.

This evening I put up in my window the poster that had been made for church (having chopped off the bottom as it was too long!) and did a few other bits of prep for tomorrow.

Hoping that what is planned for tomorrow gets an OK balance for people - some joy, some thought, some sharing, some mystery... Time, as they say, will tell!

I am disappointed that this isn't available on BBC i-player, and as far as I can tell, there is no intention to broadcast it again.  This Youtube copy is reasonably good and worth a watch.

Not many things make me cry, but parts of this always do.  I can still 'feel' how it felt when I sat alone in my living room in the Dibley manse.  Gatherers may like to look out for the Scot who is interviewed.

This morning I ventured out just before 8 a.m. to do my weekly shop.  I planned to use the clever scan on your phone App but couldn't get it to work, ah well, the staff at my local Sainsbury's (other supermarket chains are available and don't forget your corner shop) are friendly, helpful and efficient.

I got everything I needed and a few treats to boot, including a bunch of daffodils.

Usually on Easter Sunday I buy up loads of daffodils to fill the church and then share out among our folk.  This year it isn't possible, so I have one bunch for me, in a coffee jar I decorated at a training course at  least 25 years ago, probably more.

I wonder what, for you, is quintessentially Easter? I failed to buy hot crossed buns, which Gorton family tradition dictates are Good Friday breakfast, and being so utterly law-abiding will now have to do without, but that's OK, next year I can have an abundance of them!

Holy Week is always precious to me - and always exhausting, because it typically has anything up to half a dozen extra services/acts of worship to be offered.

I have been very blessed this year to work with two people who are skilled liturgists and leaders as we've created reflections and services to deliver 'on line'.

This morning I joined our Zoom Coffee Club for our weekly catch-up.  It was great to see everyone, to hear each other's voices and connect across the miles.

This afternoon I am catching up on some Admin and resisting starting work on reflections beyond tomorrow - in order to 'feel' Holy Week I can't write it ahead of time.  Today I've already listened to things online for Good Friday and Easter Sunday, and whilst I understand why they are there now, I kind of wish I hadn't listened to them - it's disrupted the flow.  So I am glad that this evening I can realign myself with Holy Week, slow down again and get into the 'knowing unknowing' once again.