I don’t really do a Thing for Easter. The house is not decorated, there are not baskets of candy and stuff for the kids, and I don’t bake a ham or fix a fancy dinner of any sort.
It’s not that I don’t get excited about all that, but…honestly? I celebrate Jesus’s resurrection every Sunday, and doubly so on Communion Sunday (first of the month)…so…no, notsomuch with the annual thing.
All the eggs and bunnies and chicks and pastels and chocolate in the world don’t mean a thing about the Resurrection, to me anyway. And since I am the one in the house to whom all the work of baskets and hams would fall, nope. I am not even sure what we’re going to have for dinner today. I don’t typically cook on Sunday AT ALL, but there is still some sort of cultural pull telling me I am supposed to fix dinner today, since it’s Easter and all. Maybe I’ll make some deviled eggs. We all like those.
The only thing I did, as a bow toward Easter Cultural Mandates, is make a new dress. I needed one anyway, and Terry found this really pretty coral colored linen, and I have a pattern I’ve used a couple of times, for a dress that fits nice and suits my style. And I bought new shoes to go with it. So now I have a new dress. However, it might require wearing some form of pantyhose or stockings, and…no. Also, my ankles are a mess from chiggers gotten at Mom’s. I am incapable of not scratching and now the ankles look a bit like the dachshunds have been gnawing on them. Maybe I can pretend the scratches are some sort of art-nouveau tattoo. Maybe I’ll wear a humongous rose in my hair, so people will notice that, instead of the ankle mess.
Anyway, Easter. Yep. I like it. I like the hymns we sing this day, I like seeing the women in church wearing their new stuff and the little girls who all look like peonies with their puffy skirts and multiple petticoats. They never dress like this any other Sunday, but Easter Sunday brings out the Victorian Stylist in women with daughters.
And about hams…I’ve never understood why we Protestants bake hams for Easter. The books of Acts, and Peter’s vision that released us all from the mandate of Kosher cooking didn’t happen until a while after the Resurrection, so it always seems a little inconsistent and odd that we would bake a ham to celebrate the resurrection of a Rabbi. Lamb seems more appropriate (given that Easter falls with Passover). I don’t particularly care for lamb. I don’t like any sort of baby animal. Not out of preciousness or softheartedness, but baby meat (lamb, veal, suckling pig) tastes weak to me, and if I’m going through the effort of fixing an expensive cut, I want it to taste like something more oomphy than milk.
The school Eli goes to has a Seder right before Spring Break (which coincides with Passover/Easter Week), and after the Seder they serve fried chicken and mac&cheese. Maybe that’s what we’ll have, assuming Bi-Lo is open today. Which is not a safe assumption. Walmart will probably be open but I don’t like their fried chicken and they are inevitably out of it when we get there after church. Pastor Barnes tends to go longer than typical with his sermons, so we don’t get out until after 12:30. His statement on the matter is “I’m going to preach until I’ve said all I say, not until the clock says 11:55.” Which is fine with me.
So anyway, today I will celebrate Christ’s Resurrection as I do every Sunday. I’m glad He did it. I’m overjoyed that God decided the best way for us to be able to relate to Him was to come to Earth as a man, and live among us for 33 years, and experience our frustrations and all the nonsense that comes from being human. It’s a comfort to know that God knows what it’s like.