Metaphors. Maundy Thursday. Charoset ice cream?

On living like Jesus?

 

RantWoman has eccentric ways of observing major holidays.

 

Last week it was mistiming for Palm Sunday with pipe organ and flirting with the possibility of one’s head exploding over some “Grooming With God” concerns. RantWoman does not mean hairstyling and makeup techniques. RantWoman has secondhand info from a parent understandably irate about matters of “Christian education.” RantWoman is unclear about anything but clanging red flags (yep. Sonic manglement of applicable metaphor. Tough!). RantWoman is thinking of someone’s  wisdom a few years ago about a Nerf War. RantWoman is trying to keep feet on the ground and just PRAY.

 

Right.

 

RantWoman is thinking of marginalized kids everywhere, of what either did or did not work to hold one in community circles, of radioactive topics that get in the way of possibly needed family conversations. RantWoman does not mind a level of upset being noticed conversationally, and RantWoman will TRY to pull what is throbbing for matters close to her out of the family anxiety stewpot and hopefully in the presence of someone who can handle the vocabulary and not someone who….(never mind).

 

Sure.

 

And family will at least solve how to spend time in each other’s presence for Easter.

 

Tonight it is Maundy Thursday. The Google served up some church options, but RantWoman is going to go with bitter herbs and charoset ice cream and a meetup in a bar where conversation recently ran to fasting for lent, alcohol and muslim heritage and 6-year-old Polish / East European immigrants blaming their Jewish classmate for the death of Christ.

 

Forget not also some Twitter acquaintances who today have been busy koshering their kitchens and looking for gluten free matzoh.

 

RantWoman has been trying to decide whether she should purge herself of inclination to exclaim “when Baptists celebrate Passover, there is a crucifixion involved.” RantWoman does not mean this exclamation as any kind of invitation to pogrom. The times RantWoman has been part of a seder, the flow of the event is more about invitation into important space, life as Jesus experienced it and the presence of God and grace among a bunch of friends who are, to put things delicately, kind of schleps, and kind of schleps over and over.

 

Here RantWoman’s Twitter feed served up @GregKoskela:

 

When I was a pastor, I was often in awe of the honor and privilege it was to have people invite me in to their deepest pain and agony. It was holy ground.

Tonight in Maundy Thursday worship at Newberg Emerging Friends Church, it hit me that Jesus gave that honor to his friends. He invited them into his pain and struggle in the garden of Gethsemane.

 

The anguish we are allowed to see in Jesus is a holy moment in itself. I won’t hurry to Easter just yet.

Tonight in Maundy Thursday worship at Newberg Emerging Friends Church, it hit me that Jesus gave that honor to his friends. He invited them into his pain and struggle in the garden of Gethsemane.

 

Who? What? Easter? Metaphors?

 

For now food. RantWoman peculiarly likes both bitter herbs and charoset and one of these years RantWoman will get her hands on some charoset ice cream.