Palmy

 

Hello all. I hope that you are well. Today is Palm Sunday, apparently. Although, as regular readers will know, knowing where important and Holy dates are in the Liturgy is not my strongest point. (Also -  looks up the word "Liturgy"). So, the people "on the door" in the church were giving out palms to the congregation.

I wasn't at church today to participate in the giving out of palms. I've hurt my back, among other maladies.  "How did you hurt your back?" you will ask because you are a good, concerned person, and I will be ashamed, but I will reply, "I hurt my back plugging in the charger for my Kindle Fire." For that is the truth. The irony is even heavier and more embarrassing because I mainly use the Kindle Fire to follow exercise routines in the back room - to keep me reasonably mobile. (Get Fit with Rick - highly recommended on YouTube). So there. Actually, I also use the Kindle to download books I am slightly ashamed of - no, not those sorts of books. Mainly, they are self-help books, which I don't really believe in, but I am very gullible sometimes. So, on the Kindle, you will find - Atomic Habits and Seven Habits of Highly Successful People (Which are apparently not the same habits as the Atomic ones) and One Thousand Small Things to Change Your Life - or something.  I cannot pass on any wisdom from these books because I have never actually read any of them all the way through. I usually find, quite early on, that I am thinking, "What nonsense is this?" before I close down in a huff and go and find an Agatha Christie. I'm not throwing shade. If they work for you - hurrah. I just get annoyed when I, once again, find I have been duped into buying something, telling me about 5 things I can do daily to change my life and then discover that they are all (a) obvious or (b) ridiculous or (c) both. 

Anyway, HOH said that I didn't miss much when it came to the palms because they were all "little, farty things". I like my Palm Sunday palms to be as big as a car if possible or at least big enough to live in the detritus of my day-to-day life as a reminder. (see above). For those not in the know, Palm Sunday signalled Jesus' final trip into Jerusalem, where the crowds lauded him as their saviour and rescuer, waving palms and promising to love him forever. Until they didn't. About twenty minutes later, everyone turned on a sixpence and left him alone, including many of his closest friends. There are clues around the different understanding of what Jesus was doing here. The waving of palms was often used to signify great victories  - usually in the military sense, and that is what people were expecting. Some people had seen Lazarus raised from the dead, and that, not unreasonably, was creating a huge buzz. (I expect that you have already heard this, but someone once said to me that when Jesus called Lazarus from his grave cave, he had to shout his name because there were other bodies in there, and they would have all come out if he hadn't been specific. I'm not sure that's true, but I like it.) Yet Jesus deliberately chose a donkey - signifying humility and peace. No one in their right mind is going to think a man on a donkey is going to take over the world. If you don't think that donkeys are funny - try following the Jacobs Ridge Animal Sanctuary. 

As far as I could see, the crowds began to change their minds - not because of reasoned argument or seeing something not worth following in Jesus. There seemed to be a bit of bullying, a bit of bribery, and Jesus telling them for the umpteenth time that he wasn't going to be playing the saviour game by their rules (i.e. swords, blood guts, etc.) and that he had come to bring something completely different. That was enough to change everyone's mind about him. And they say that Instagram is a bad influence.

On that subject, as I am currently living the life of a Medieval nun who has bricked herself into a toilet-sized chamber upstairs in the cathedral, I have watched Adolescence. It was, obviously, very good. I had a couple of tiny gripes. I'm not sure there is a senior teacher alive who hasn't heard the word "Incel", and would they really allow a detective to interview the children when his son was in the class?  But these are minor things. Like most people, I cried like a baby several times. There but for the Grace of God go any of our children. It's not easy being a parent but I don't think we always make it easy for them either.

Linking tenuously, can I just draw your attention to this book. Home Bird by Fran Hill is a follow-up to Cuckoo in the Nest. These books are loosely based on Fran's own experience growing up in care. They manage to be sad but hopeful at the same time. Jackie, the main protagonist, is funny, witty and still vulnerable.  Fran is a Christian, and it is good fun spotting that influence in the book, and it is also a cracking good read. 

Anyway. Enjoy Holy Week, as proper Christians call it. I'm hoping I will be able to straighten up by Good Friday. If you have a second, please remember HOH in your prayers. I'm not very easy to live with when I am not well. It may be a long week for him.