Yesterday evening most of the regulars gathered at the local C of S for our shared service.  It was a very imaginatively enacted Stations of the Resurrection - a lesser known and lesser practised meditation to complement the better known and more overtly Roman Stations of the Cross.

It was done simply but beautifully, and was an embodied journey through stories of the resurrection across the gospels.  At some points we sang, but mostly we listened and imagined...

• The church garden: Mark 16: 1 - 8
• The church steps (it is a very fine, porticoed entrance with lots of steps and tall columns): Matthew 28:11 - 15
• The sanctuary, around the table, where we shared bread and wine: Luke 24: 13 - 27 then, after a hymn, 28 - 35
• An upper room, with the door closed: John 20: 19 - 25
• A hall, arranged with blue cloth and sea-washed pebbles, where we ate bread and fish: John 21: 1 - 14
• A connecting room, close to the exit of the building: John 21: 15 - 19

By no means every church has the facilities to create the spaces that we experienced, yet most could find spaces and places to create a hint of the various scenes.

It was a special end to a special day.  Thank you D and all at Duke's Boot Church (naff masking but I can't think of anything better just now)

Today, having been zapped I propose to zzzzzzzz - or at least blob - after a full and fulfilling weekend.

What a wonderful Easter Sunday at the Gathering Place - full to overflowing (we had a full row of people on the 'upper deck' and a debate as to whether those were the cheap or expensive seats!), full of colour, full of music, full of laughter and full of love. Woo hoo!  A great celebration of Resurrection.

Here is the table set for breakfast.  We feasted on bacon rolls (or vegan alternatives), assorted cheeses and preserves.  Then we remembered the story behind the gathering, the meal in the upper room, and we shared in a simple communion.

Around twenty of us at 8:30 on a Sunday morning, sharing laughter and food, sharing a moment of holy remembering.

It was good.

Then at 11 we began our all age act of celebration worship.  Our African students arrived resplendent in national dress.  A number of visitors found their way into our midst.  We had an almost complete contingent of children (I think only three  away) the perverse benefit of those school systems that have moved to standardised terms.  We had a trumpeter, a cellist a clarinetist and an African drummer (player of African drums, who happened to be African).

We thought about Easter customs, we heard the story of The Very Hungry Caterpillar, we played 'spot the difference', we heard the story of Mary coming to the garden (from John 20) and then whilst the children created the most amazing butterly collage, the adults pondered Easter sees everything 'the same but different.'  After a rousing rendition of 'Thine be the Glory' (proper words edition!) and some piano music we were treated to some spontaneous African drumming in celebration of resurrection.

Truly a day of blessing for me. 

Surrexit Christus!  Alleluia!

Thine be the glory, risen, conquering Son,

Endless is the victory Thou o'er death hast won.

Empty, aching silence...

 Let all mortal flesh keep silence...

Ecce Homo - or as someone once crudely, but profoundly, translated it: Now look at 'im !

Hands that flung stars into space, to cruel nails surrendered...

Love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all.