Sisters in Scripture
Easter is Just Beginning. . .    4/22/2019
When I was in ninth grade, I discovered that the "the little Polish church” by the bridge had a full-on, pull-out-all-the-stops, Easter-all-over-again celebration on Easter Monday.
 
At least that’s how I remember it.  I went to their early morning Mass still in Latin and barely noticed the Polish I did not know.  I just wanted to be able to proclaim all over again, He is alive!  I wanted to run around telling anyone and anything that would listen.  I soon discovered that when you tell butterflies, they reply, "We know, can you not hear it in our flutter?”  The birds were singing the same news as it turned out, the buzzing bees, the stirring breeze.  Shoots popped up from the ground so they could stand up and shout.  Small, tender leaves uncurled because they were bursting with joy.  
 
It happened that way.  I know because I was there and that’s what I’ll remember the rest of my days.  

I also remember a much younger self being taken to church on Easter by my Daddy.  When at last they sang the great, "Jesus Christ is Risen Today,” I stood on the shiny wood pew and turned so I could see the upturned, joyous faces of grown-ups all around.  Only that’s not what I saw.  I saw solemn, blasé looks mouthing the music.  Right there in my patent leather mary-janes and white anklets with the lace tops turned down, I wanted to shout it out, "Hey!  He’s alive!  Don’t you know?”  

I live, we live, somewhere between the butterflies that know and the grown-ups who do not.  

This Easter Monday morning, I am once again in that in-between space.  Call it liminal which, of course, means, rife with possibility.  He is alive!  Millions of Christians with full heart and voice proclaimed that yesterday and I do believe that most of them meant it.  Is anything different or changed by that today?  Are we different or changed?  Could anyone know that by looking at us?  


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PINK breaks through on Laetare Sunday    4/2/2019
 
 
Halfway through Lent, the somber purple colors are shed for a burst of pink.  We are marking the midpoint of our journey, but we also give a nod to a Spring-too-beautiful-to-be ignored.  

Cherry blossoms were everywhere this past week in Seattle.  I came for the retreats but neither could I ignore the beauty all around. Seattle really turned out in glory. Yes, there was one day of spring showers, but the rest was bird song, blooming cherries and magnolias, daffodils and tulip edging every lawn, the sweet scent of spirea in the air, sparkling waters and snow-capped mountains all around.  

Here’s another kind of beauty for you. Take a look at some of the pictures from the two retreats given. Beautiful faces, joy, warm welcome, deep thoughts, song, prayers—all good.  Many thanks to the faith-filled folks at Holy Disciples Catholic Church, Puyallup and St. Luke’s Lutheran Church, Bellevue. 
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