Easter Saturday. The in-between. The Sabbath when creation held its breath. It is the day we don’t quite know what to do with. Of course, then, it would have been a day of sorrow – of continued mourning. But we know what came next, and we can anticipate it.
I went to a local garden centre with Bev this afternoon where we had coffee and earl grey tea – one each, not both together – and wandered around contentedly looking at things, chatting about this and that. I’m looking forward to tomorrow, although Andy and I have to perform this sketch at church, which I am nervous about. The trouble with not being very involved makes it harder to be relaxed when you do do things. Looking forward to singing ‘See what a morning’ which is one of my very favourite hymns but I always have to wait till Easter to sing it!
Weather as bizarre as ever. Sun is blazing down amid a blue sky – but it’s snowed twice today.
We’ve been watching the BBC’s The Passion. I got very engrossed last night. I think it is a good production – the atmosphere is very good, the setting excellent. Caiaphas and Pilate are very well done. I had many other thoughts last night while watching – positive and negative – sometimes it seems that Jesus’ words have been skewed, and his character too uncertain – and of course you notice what’s added in and what’s missing. When it’s a story you know so well and believe in, omissions and changes are far more glaring. Some things made me frown; however most thoughts were forgotten when we reached the crucifixion scene, whereby I broke down in tears. It was…excellently done, for want of a better a phrase. Any realistic depiction of the crucifixion always makes me struggle not to cry – in fact I hope it always does. It took sometime to compose myself afterwards because of course this is not just a story – this really happened – they really did crucify a man called Jesus all those years ago.
The portrayal of Judas’ anguish was also very moving. I shall be very interested in how they handle tomorrow’s episode. They seem to have carefully avoided and veered away from anything ‘miraculous’ until now, so the resurrection, the most miraculous of all…hmm. I hope they don’t fuzzy it up too much. If they want to tell the story of Jesus as in the gospels, they cannot ignore it.
‘His scent of wounds,
in which we are now wrapped,
carried us out of that petrified place
into the calm city
where even the dust has been healed.’
from Stewart Henderson’s Only at Easter