It has rained all day and is promised until late tonight.
I hope that's it because tomorrow, on Palm Sunday, we're supposed to begin on the Milton Green with our neighbor, the Congregational Church, to bless the palms. Then we'll go to our own churches for the services.
I love Palm Sunday...and all of Holy Week.
This is the most vital week of the Episcopal year.
Pray that the rain will "go away and come again another day."
We had 8 people at Bible Study today--more than usual.
We begin with a brief communion and then dig into Luke.
We're almost finished with Luke but there were so many comments and questions we aren't through.
We did get through Palm Sunday and Jesus' arrest,
The crucifixion and resurrection next week.
Just in time for Easter!
Amazing how that works out....
I more accurately should have written--I hate Costco.
But I have a Costco Visa card and every January they send me a gift certificate that is a % of my purchases in the last year.
This year it was $364.
So we went to Costco to buy things with it.
Bern is in charge and makes a list.
We spent over $320 on huge things: 30 rolls of toilet paper, 12 rolls of paper towels, 20 boxes of tissue, 2 hams for Easter dinner, 16 metal pans for cooking, more flossing stuff than I'll ever use--stuff like that.
I hate Costco because 1) it's so huge; 2)there are so many people there; the parking lot is always too full; and 4) I don't know where anything is in the store.
Once a year I can stand it--but no more than that.
(p.s. Don't tell Costco--I love getting a gift certificate.)
PALM SUNDAY 2024
It probably wasn’t as big a deal as we make it out to be.
We call it THE TRIUMPHAL ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM.
It was probably more like sneaking in the back door.
Who was it, after all? A country bumpkin of a rabbi (what good can come from Nazareth?) along with his equally provincial followers—ragged and dusty from three years of traveling—and the riff-raff hanging around the gates of the Holy City, looking for some entertainment.
Oh, it caused a stir—Jesus arriving and going immediately to the Temple. The Pharisees were nervous because the rabble seemed to love him and the rabble could never be trusted to toe the line. The ones who welcomed the strange prophet from the sticks were uncontrollable by the authorities of the Temple. So the Sanhedrin—the equivalent of the Bishops in our church—watched and waited and bided their time. This troublesome Teacher was a problem that could be dealt with successfully.
Oh, it caused a stir….The Zealots, those “freedom fighters” of the Jews—the ones the Romans saw as “terrorists”—had a breath of hope. Perhaps Jesus was the figure around which a popular rebellion could be mounted. Perhaps he could be the one to restore the Throne of David and return the land of Israel to the Israelites.
Oh, it caused a stir….Pilate was troubled because his wife was having nightmares about this Prophet Jesus and when Pilate was troubled the Roman Legion was troubled. It was almost Passover and the city was full of pilgrims who were full of religious fervor. And religious fervor is always a threat to the “status quo” and the rule of the occupying army.
Oh, it caused a stir….The common folk were mesmerized by the wisdom and the miracles of Jesus. He brought them something that touched them deep in their souls, something so long missing from their lives, dashed by oppression and almost extinguished: he brought the faint, almost bitter sweet hope that God still loved them.
But it was probably still much less spectacular than we make it out to be. A little band of people—dispossessed, powerless, mostly poor…outsiders of all the political and religious intrigue of the day—laying palm branches and, yes, their own cloaks, on the path up to the city for this strange, eccentric, inscrutable rabbi who had “rocked” their marginal lives with the possibility of love.
In his letter to the Philippians, St. Paul wrote that Jesus “emptied himself out”. The Greek word is lovely. Kenosis: “to empty out”.
It seems to me that Jesus was practicing “kenosis” all the way up to Jerusalem.
He was emptying himself of pride and ego and whatever ambitions he might have had.
He was emptying himself of anger and resentment and petty disagreements.
He was emptying himself of power and influence and the ability to “change the world” in some profound way.
He was emptying himself of the hope that clings to life against all odds, of the longing to “make a difference”, of the glitter and attraction of worldly things.
He was making himself completely empty—cleaned out, purged—creating a vacuum within his heart that could hold LOVE for the whole world, for all of it, every single bit of it.
It was LOVE that entered Jerusalem by some side gate, riding on a colt, listening to sounds of “Hosanna!”, being fanned by fronds of palm.
It was LOVE—love for the Pharisees, for his close friends and companions, for Pilate and the Romans, for the Zealots who would make him King, for the common folk who ran beside him, guiding him toward the Temple Mount. Love for you. Love for me.
It was LOVE…love and love only, always love, already love, total love, all-embracing love, love to fill his heart and break it too, love beyond imagining, love beyond pain or suffering or life or death, love “once and for all”. Simply LOVE and nothing else at all….
Just that.
Love on the back of a colt entering the Holy City.
So, I guess it was a “big deal” after all….
It's that time of year--I have to do our tax stuff.
I've got everything I need--income and expenses--on the main table in our dining room.
I dread starting.
I'm more of a 'big picture' person than a 'detail' person.
It's a pain.
But it must be done.
And, eventually, I'll do it.
But not without mental agony....
When you get to my age you spend lots of time with doctors.
I had 3 appointments this week but missed the one on Wednesday because I was a the funeral for my friend's wife.
Cardiologist on Tuesday and Cancer doctor today.
Good news from both.
But the beat goes on.
I'm not getting younger.
More doctors to come.
I went to a funeral for a friend's wife today.
I never met her, but he is a good friend and I needed to be there.
It was at a church I'd never been to and the church was packed--200 people, I'd say.
A bishop was there to lead the service and celebrate communion.
I knew bishop's came to priest's funeral--but priest's wives?
I won't tell Bern, she wouldn't like to know that.
A sad but hopeful day.
I don't really know what I think about the afterlife--but I'll hope for the best.
