Easter Basket

Gobetween offered a basket of Easter treats.  I liked the idea so much, I have copied it.

Spud in his Easter Bonnet.  It was so heavy, he needed a pole (in his right hand) to support it and a cord (in his left hand) to balance it.  The Hub has a habit of going overboard.  His enthusiasm tends to carry him to places he would never normally go, like into marriage with me.

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An Easter story:

At an Easter service in Bangladesh the congregation wept at the crucifixion scene in the Jesus film.

Suddenly a little boy at the back jumped up and shouted, ‘Don’t worry, He gets up again.  I saw it before!’

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Spud the Vicar: one old tablecloth; some black card; white card; a material scrap and gold stickyback plastic.  Must be a Church of England vicar.

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This happened last year:

I attended the early service in my Anglican church.  We combined with two other churches in the parish last Easter.  The church where we are now based is high church, as opposed to us low church, or enjoy-it-enough-to-almost-be-called-’happy-clappy’-if-we-weren’t-all-too-frightfully-British-to-actually-clap-in church.

The early service is extremely formal: the Gospel reading requires everyone to stand, and is made in the middle of the congregation.  I suppose the thinking is that it’s at the centre of everything.  People in long, white robes hold crosses on sticks and surround the vicar, who reads the scripture from the biggest Bible I’ve ever seen in real life.  It is all rather solemn and old-fashioned.

The reading was from Matthew; the parable of the sower.  The vicar read, And he told them many things in parables, saying, at which point he drew breath, just as the only baby in the room said, Dada!

I’ll tell you what is definitely not old-fashioned – a giggling vicar.

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Happy Easter! 

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