With new fire and candles ...

Today has always felt a strange limbo - at least, since I became involved with church for myself. In the past my mother would listen to the St Matthew Passion on the radio - because there always seemed to be a mainstream acknowledgement of the day in the media, such as it was - and she'd likely sing along, as she sang in the Cathedral Choral Society for much of my childhood - rehearsals on a Thursday evening meant my father had to deal with my pigtail for bedtime and it was never quite right ...

Today, however, as the town went about its business, although with the distraction of the local churches' Walk of Witness, I was already working towards Easter. Di came for coffee and once more we headed up to church, where we dismantled Gethsemane and used some of the best moss to create the Easter Garden in the space below the altar. We had some quick research to do - which gospel passage was being used tomorrow? - and settled on the figures which we know as "the swooping ladies" as well as a couple of rather camp angels and, anticipating another part of the story, Mary Magdalene and the risen Jesus standing hidden from the others between two pillars. (I'll maybe post a photo tomorrow).

Then it was home for a barbecue pot and some kindling from our hoard kept in case any family wanted a fire on the beach (think they've grown out of that), back to the church to deposit it for later, and home to make dinner and eat it in mid-afternoon so's to have a rest before ...

The Easter Vigil, with the New Fire and renewal of baptismal vows - both in the collage above - followed by the first Mass of Easter. I sang the Exultet, probably for the last time; I'm getting a bit old for 12 minutes of continuous plainsong and David our new Rector has a glorious voice. People said it was good; I know I didn't lose pitch or cough or make any mistakes, but I was increasingly voiceless thereafter. We were all well soaked with holy water, we made a joyous noise for the Resurrection, Himself played a storm. And afterwards, in the narthex, we had a party - Prosecco and nibbles - and renewed old friendships and strengthened new ones, before tumbling out into the dark past the now dead fire to go home for tea and a biscuit and bed.

Don't ask me at this stage in the weekend what I think I'm doing or believing or anything mundane - for now, what is is enough, and it's joyous.