I wrote this on Palm Sunday before hearing about the terrible attack on Coptic Christians in Egypt. I thought twice about uploading what is an essentially light-hearted account of my day. However, on reflection, I would rather carry on as normal, which is what this attack was meant to stop. It goes without saying that I am praying for my Christian brothers and sisters who continue to be persecuted and for those whose lives have been changed forever today.
Today was my first Palm Sunday attending a C of E church. I'm not used to church dates and celebrations. Having quite a lot of non-conformist people in my upbringing - some of whom thought that Oliver Cromwell was a bit on the frivolous side, I was a little bit apprehensive. This wasn't helped by HOH musing that he was sure that he had read that Anglicans marched around the church waving crosses and shouting Hosanna. Consequently I probably didn't look as grateful as I could have when I was handed my Palm cross on the door. Aged Parent didn't seem too bothered.
"Ooh is this one of those glow sticks?" she asked the steward. (She is very keen not to get left behind by the young people)
Like I said, I'm not really good on church dates and celebrations. Although there is a certain lovely constancy about markers through the year which have been there through generations. But, thinking about it, today, Jesus, riding into town on a donkey - defying the expectations of those who wanted someone to lead the revolution against the Romans. He knew that today was the beginning of the end of this chapter. From today, there would just be an ever quickening run towards the event he had really come for. It's quite a big date really - when you think about it.
In the end, it was just a really good service. A good preach based around the events of Palm Sunday and no one asked me to wave anything or clean up after a donkey.