The last hurrah before Lent

DianeRoth
03/08/2011

The last hurrah before Lent

The last hurrah, I suppose that's what you could call Transfiguration Sunday, if you wanted to.

Pull out all the stops, sing your heart out, go up on that mountain and see visions. Have a loud organ, a good band and some glory, too. And you can also have a feast, and a party, with too much food and a lot of noise, but that is optional.

So, it was a pretty productive Saturday, starting with the Gospel of John, chapter 8, at 8:00 a.m. (there was a slight digression to check with the man who was reading on his Kindle).

At church, I tried to tie up some loose ends so that we could take a brief break after worship tomorrow. Sent out mail, email, copying, boring stuff like that.

I also visited two people in the hospital, where I squeezed a hand in intensive care and had a pre-baptism meeting with the cutest baby ever.

I peeked in on the small group that was diligently writing a mission statement for our congregation.

When I got home, we went out to the yarn store (as I call it, "I would like to go to the yarn store today"). I wanted to get some advice on the sweater I'm attempting and I also just wanted to look at the yarn: all the colors, the textures, the possibilities. Luckily, I do not have to rip out what I have already started.

Then we went in search of food. It was mid-afternoon already and we found ourselves in a little Italian deli, eating pasta and sausage and a stromboli. We looked up at the window advertisement, which read, "Goodbye to meat." -- and then, underneath, "Carnivale." Never thought of that before.

The last hurrah before Lent.

Tonight I'm knitting, watching "Pretty Woman," eating popcorn and doing other low-key things. I suppose I should also be washing nylons, washing dishes and doing some general straightening.

The other day I did a little more book-buying than usual (the last hurrah before Lent?). I could be paging through my new acquisitions, too. But I'm not. I'm spending the last hurrah before Lent knitting, watching a movie and eating popcorn.

It's far away from the mountain and the visions, far away from the moment when suddenly, everything makes sense, the fog clears and the path you must take is clear.

It's far away from the singing angels and the voice of God, but somehow, the voice of God, is here, too, only softer, like a whisper, and I have to pay attention.

It's the last hurrah before Lent, before the ashes on our foreheads, before the time of darkness, before the fast, before we come down the mountain, if we were ever on one.

Yes, I believe there was a mountain, even if we don't remember.

There was that day when we were first called "beloved children," when we were sealed with the Holy Spirit and marked by the cross. God spoke into our ear, we saw the candlelight flicker and the saints stood around us that day.

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Originally posted March 5, 2011, at Faith in Community. Republished with permission of the author. Find a link to Diane Roth’s blog Faith in Community at Lutheran Blogs.

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