Back to work - and working hard not to work to hard! When I switched on the computer this was the start screen image that popped up, which felt appropriate somehow (and as I had my fancy phone with me, I could photograph it!)
Having just put away the Easter detritus and cleared a path to my desk, I can get going on doing "real" stuff... Sermon prep it is then!
This little funny does the rounds every year... and carries more than a germ of truth. Clergy, organists/musicians, choristers, flower arrangers, tea-makers, messy church facilitaters, meditation/reflection leaders and so on, all arrive at Easter Monday in a state ranging from tiredness via kn*ckeration to full on medically defined exhuastion. We love Easter, we want it to be special, and it always is... and then we need a rest.
I have a feeling this tomb is rather full of snoring clerics right now!
There are lots of funny pictures available online, and I guess they could offend, but I thought I'd share this one which is new to me, and reminds me of a special friend at whose funeral these same words, in the chorus of a song, were used in the eulogy...
If you know the song, you will know that the opening lines run roughly thus:
I used to think that music matters
But does it b******s
Not compared to how people matter
I think that's a not too bad summary of what the cross event is about really...
Sorry if images or language offend, if so just ignore the post and move on.
I'm having a lovely Easter - it's not over yet - and a really happy first day back at work.
The rain held off for the open air service in the Botanic Gardens which was attended by lots of people from at least six different congregations - and at least three dogs as well!
Then it was all hands on deck to set up for our own service at 11 a.m., with just enough time for a tasty apple hot cross bun (yummy!) and a cuppa along the way.
The church was packed, with visitors as well as regulars and really happy atmosphere as we shared in an act of all age worship with three creative zones and a central reflective zone, a child-friendly communion and some thoughts on the importance of retelling the the stories that carry the memory of the life of Jesus.
Mr Bump, you ask, what is that all about? I had taken in a selection of objects that related to Easters past, including a Mr Bump mug that had been given to me in the 1970s complete, back then, with a small Easter egg. When I asked the children why they thought I'd brought in Mr Bump the answers were amazing... Mr Men being almost egg shaped, Mr Bump being wounded as a reminder that Jesus was wounded (wow... still processing that one, so incredibly profound), Mr Men are smiling and make us happy, Mr Bump (on my mug anyway) has a ladder, which maybe was to climb up to the cross... I LOVE the imagination and intuitive spirituality of children!
It was one of those services where the technology packs up - first the laptop powered down with a flat battery (the power lead having coming loose unobserved) then a microphone battery packed up, then the microphone itself packed up, and then a microphone swap was needed... and none of it mattered, not one jot.
It felt good to be back at 'work'. I had a blast. Hopefully other people enjoyed themselves too. I enjoyed my now traditional post Easter service lunch out and still have an evening service when someone else will guide my thoughts.
Whether we remember any details of the service in a week's time doesn't matter - what we did does: we retold the story, we kept the memory alive and we sought meaning for our continuing lives...
Resurrection joy, new or renewed hope: love is come again like wheat that springeth green.
I need to preface this by saying that one of my greatest pleasures in ministry is "creating" an Easter Sunday experience for others, even though it is lots of work, and even if delegating might be a wise idea... I just kind of want everyone else to have a lovely time and not feel the need to be making it so for others.
So, on the landing outside my flat are two big buckets of flowers.
I have taken lots of craft materials to church, and have a few last minute bits still to purchase.
I have some prototypes and preparations to make during the course of the day.
I have already made a few tweaks to my PowerPoint and may make the odd one to the service detail
This is not "proper" Holy Saturday reflection... or is it? Is it possible that in the preparing, in the yearning to give the best I can, to help others find meaning and hope is actually very proper indeed?
I will have fun today - I have lovely things to prepare.
I will have fun tomorrow - because there will be good things to share.
That limbo time, between a death and a funeral, when you don't quite know what to do or say or be... I guess in some senses that's what Holy Saturday is about. Perhaps because my Dad died on the Wednesday after Easter, I remember his death around this time rather than at its true date. In some sense I re-enter the bizarre blend of routine and restlessness, getting on with it and not knowing what to do... I try hard not to pre-empt what I know tomorrow brings, because actually no-one knows what tomorrow brings. Like countless ministers and Sunday School leaders, today will be spent on final preps for tomorrow. For now though, these words...