Resurrection Rolls

They look like run-of-the-mill regular rolls.

But they are empty inside!
(Just wrap your bread dough around a marshmallow and bake.)

He is risen, indeed!

You don’t need tulips to make the rolls…
but they are cheery,eh?

Is This the Face?

Jesus on the Cross, Rembrandt

Is this the Face that thrills with awe
      Seraphs who veil their face above?
Is this the Face without a flaw       
      The Face that is the Face of Love?
Yea, this defaced, a lifeless clod,   
Hath all creation’s love sufficed
Hath satisfied the love of God,       
     This Face the Face of Jesus Christ

Christina Rossetti

Easter Monday


From the view of the sunrise outside our front door
to the pitter-patter of raindrops on the roof as we fell asleep,
Easter was a magnificent, glorious, rich celebration.

Today, Easter Monday, is a day of hugs and good-byes
with family returning to their homes,
a day for the washing machine to exert itself,
a day of putting away,
a day of happy, contented sighs.

I read somewhere that in Greek villages,
they celebrate Easter Monday with practical jokes,
reflecting the cosmic “joke” of Christ’s resurrection.
It is a holiday in many countries, a designation I fully support.
I think I’ll take a walk.


Like Wheat Arising Green


Now the green blade rises from the buried grain,
Wheat that in dark earth many days has lain;
Love lives again, that with the dead has been;
Love is come again, like wheat arising green.

In the grave they laid him, love by hatred slain,
Thinking that he would never wake again,
Laid in the earth like grain that sleeps unseen;
Love is come again, like wheat arising green.

Forth he came at Easter, like the risen grain,
He that for three days in the grave had lain;
Raised from the dead, my living Lord is seen:
Love is come again, like wheat arising green.

When our hearts are wintry, grieving or in pain,
Your touch can call us back to life again;
Fields of our hearts that dead and bare have been:
Love is come again, like wheat arising green.

J.M.C. Crum (1872-1958)

New Bread

Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy and save me!
Let me lie down like a stone, O God,
and rise up like new bread.

~ Tolstoy in War and Peace
quoted by M.F.K. Fisher in How to Cook a Wolf

Isn’t this quote about perfect for Holy Week? 

Also a prayer for our young friend Isaiah, who remains in a coma.  It is a great reminder that we used to be dead in our sins and God has made us alive in Him.

God made this world chock full of pictures–symbols–of death and resurrection.  The more we look, the more we see.  Help me add to the list. 

Night and day: each day dies followed by a new day 
Our sleep is a little death; awaking is a little resurrection 
A seed dies and is buried in the ground; a new plant rises
Tulips turn brown and brittle…and come up green.
A tree becomes a skeleton…until new leaves bud
Hibernating bears
Drowned rice fields
Grapes are killed, crushed, bruised
Yeast is buried in flour and water
An act of repentance, a dying to self, precedes new growth

Arise! Rejoice! Death is Dead.

Rise, daffodil,
against the stones
that shall yield
to your yellow vow.

Rise, onion shoot,
from an odious shroud
to green exclamation;
your death is done!

~  from Poem for Easter by Barbara Eash Shisler

The daffs in the top picture are from our front garden.
The onions are from the vegetable garden.
The pictures were taken Good Friday morning.
The snow was gone by afternoon.

My favorite Easter poem is by Thomas Blackburn.
Bach used it in Cantata No. 129
You can hear a snippet here (scroll to 14).

Awake, thou wintry earth
Fling off, fling off thy sadness.
Fair vernal flowers laugh forth,
Laugh forth your ancient gladness.

A new and love tale,
Across the land is spread,
It floats o’er hill and dale,
To say that death is dead.

Happy Easter!  He is Risen!

Death as a Tool of Love, Blood as a Bleach

Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood
Shall never lose its power,
Till all the ransomed church of God
Be saved to sin no more.

~ William Cowper

He has delivered us from the power of darkness
and conveyed us into the kingdom of the Son of His love,
in whom we have redemption through His blood,
the forgiveness of sins.

~ St. Paul

How well chosen wine was
to stain our souls with remembrance!
He knew how it burst, vivid,
from the flushed skins of grapes
grown for this sacramental crushing:
a shocking red, unforgettable as blood
a rich brew in the cup, a bitter,
burning in the throat, a warmth within,
chosen well to each our lintels
with the paradoxes of
a high priest bound to his own altar,
death as a tool of love,
and blood as a bleach.

~ Luci Shaw

Good thoughts for Good Friday.
Be still.
Give thanks.