Legally Blonde

in which I spend an irritable morning fighting with both D and B, see my midwife, dump B in nursery to see my acupuncturist, feel much better, have supper all together at the in-laws’, take my irritable nasty self away from the bosom of the family to go to church – not that I feel like it at all but have also just noticed it is Holy Week rather than just the school holidays and that I should mark it somehow.

Not the best of frames of mind in which to take communion!

It’s an odd service – while still Lent, there is a festive feel. The acclamations and Gloria which have been omitted the last six weeks are used again, the priest and altar wear white and gold, it is a celebration. A celebration of the Passover, and the institution of the Last Supper. On usual Sunday mornings the words are familiar – it can be too easy to rattle them off without thinking too much. On Maundy Thursday it is all raw, new, Not familiar. The disciples are expecting a “normal” passover meal – and they get the new Covenant. A different Lamb entirely.

After Communion the whole feel of the service changes. The Choir sing Psalm 88 while the Vicar strips the altar to symbolise the soldiers’ stripping of Jesus after his arrest. All the church ornaments are packed up – the candles, the banners, the silver cross on the altar, the altar cloth itself – until there is just a bare wooden table, almost shocking in its nakedness (we are familiar with the “dressings” of a wealthy western church; I’m sure this wouldn’t be such a contrast in some southern hemisphere or persecuted churches).

The lights go out. From somewhere far away the Vicar reads a verse from the passage when Jesus is arrested, ending with, “and they ran away and deserted him.”

None of the usual sending out, dismissal, the Lord be with you – and also with you, “normal” church endings. Silence. Then pew doors bang, footsteps ring out, even the choir doesn’t process but scatters. everyone leaves by any door, no formal filing out, shake the vicar’s hand, say goodbye, just scatter in the darkness.

Powerful. shocking. Lonely. Desolate. Wonderful.

Finally I am a little tuned in and aware again, despite not having “done church” much – or at all really – this Lent.

I hope this strange peacefulness sees me through the next couple of days, so I can be a little more patient with the boys and keep sight of “real” Easter, rather than just the chocolate and chicks taught by school and nursery. I suppose they have their reasons for ducking the real story, but I don’t understand. Perhaps no-one wants to risk doing death with four year olds. Not just death, but torture, illegal trial, crucifixion – right in the middle of the “Why?” stage! A challenge, finding accurate, truthful but age-appropriate language…. yes, it is shocking, but should they be protected by a chocolate lie?? shouldn’t they instead have the opportunity to question, wide-eyed? Didn’t Jesus tell us that it is only by becoming childlike that we come to him?

Then again, we have the luxury of hindsight and know about the happy ending: and the family hot cross bun service tomorrow morning!