Apart from having a lively discussion with Hubby after church (and over a lamb curry) about the propriety of clapping in worship, I’m not feeling gung-ho about discussing Easter theologically. I’ve done that before and shall again. I suppose I was expecting too much of worship and the iffy sermon left me underfed, even as I strained to hear every word. Should have complained I about the sound system? Like the Borscht Belt vacationer of yore who complained: “The food was terrible! And such small portions!”
So at the Peace, I decided to sublimate my jackass-ish impulses into responding to “Good morning! Happy Easter!” with a mumbled “!Ø§Ù„Ù…Ø³ÙŠØ Ù‚Ø§Ù…” (“He is risen!” and about a quarter of my Arabic vocabulary.) The high points were running into both a certain blogger and an alumnus of my college debating society and being able to worship with Hubby at all.
This year, too, I appreciate more secular or popular traditions. I’d post a picture of the butter lamb I made but the camera is wonky. So in its place, may I present “Peep Show” — the winners of a Washington Post contents of diorama featuring Marshmallow Peeps. Some a quite good, some very gay, a couple are both.
Ø§Ù„Ù…Ø³ÙŠØ Ù‚Ø§Ù…!
