Sunday, March 28, 2010

Palm Sunday




What I saw:

A basket of palms.
A priest cloaked in red. The pews full.
Sculptures covered in purple fabric.
An eclipse.

What I heard:

Coughing. Babies.
My children whispering their hunger to me.
"O Sacred Head Surrounded.'
The Passion, the last breaths of Christ,
and the quaking of the ground.

What I felt:

Grateful to be a part of this church,
despite my misgivings, despite my
disagreements. Surrounded by
fellow worshippers, all of us thieves
asking to be welcomed into
the Kingdom of Heaven.

5 comments:

claire bangasser said...

Kelly, what a neat meditation!
Yes, as you say, we all are thieves asking to be welcomed into the Kingdom of heaven..
So true.

claire bangasser said...

PS: I really like the title of your blog. I can relate to it :-)

Anonymous said...

Sigh.

I was lying in bed wishing I was still asleep, surrounded by the kids, as the end of Chuggington came on. I was urging them to get up and dressed, when the phone rang. I knew before answering it who it was and what he wanted: it was Tony, calling from the street where he was walking the dog to say we should hurry up so we can go to 8:00 Mass instead of 9:30. Fiona was SO excited! Sister Joan Marie, her teacher, had told her about Palm Sunday.

We made it for 8:00. Lorenzo frowned and fidgeted because he had to sit next to his father, and Fiona looked perplexed because we couldn't find our place in the missals. Sure, we had made it for 8:00, but unfortunately, early Mass starts at 7:30.

I came home in a dark cloud, hardly assuaged at all by the anticipation of the Holy Thursday and Good Friday Masses we'll attend this week. We made crosses with our palms - Fiona's a simple one, mine all puffy like you see in the stores, then worked on her First Holy Communion Banner together - and I felt better.

Oonie said...

Even with my least favorite celebrants (the oily deacon, etc.) this Mass never fails to get to me. I used to weep as a child that I was being forced to claim my spot in the crowd that crucified the King. Now I resign myself to it, remembering I do this by choice more times a day than I can possibly count.
Are you visiting churches on Thursday?

Fran said...

Lovely Kelly, just so expressive with an economy of words that make my eyes tear up.