It starts at sundown today.
…to me, Easter is just an odd holiday, but I have always been fond of the Monday after, because that is when the real work began, when the baton was passed, and the early Christians were charged with making things right (and righteous).
It struck me on the way to visit my son and his family on Sunday, while I was accidentally listening to some baroque music on the radio, that the best Easter sermon would be, “My God! He didn’t die!”
…some kind-hearted soul just wished me a happy Easter week.
I hardly knew how to respond, other than “Thank you. You, as well.” I didn’t go into the whole thing that I don’t really celebrate Easter, though the rest of Christendom seems to. I didn’t go into the fact that fundamentalists still walking around with those unique scars aren’t comfortable making a big, commercial deal over the death, burial and resurrection of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, which is a phrase I can say backyard, I’ve said it so often — or that fractured fundamentalists such as myself tend to shy away from most religious holidays, though we are all about the chocolate bunnies.
There was a time when I would have given that kind-hearted soul book, chapter and verse about Easter, but I’m older now and you know what? Who cares? Who? Cares? Easter’s a great time to be with family, hide eggs from the kids, and generally enjoy that warm feeling you get when someone else makes the meal and all you have to bring is bread.
In fact, hearing the greeting was kind of nice, having the holiday acknowledged, even if it isn’t my holiday. It made me smile, so that I went to find a couple of observant Jewish colleagues to wish them a happy Purim. They both looked at me like they were a little confused, but I meant well.
(It started at sunset last night, and goes to sunset today).
Need a refresher? Here’s more on the shero of that story, Esther (and, depending on your perspective, the woman she replaced, Vashti).
…and the finalists. And thank you, Alison, for the link.