Dear Friends,
We began this week on Palm Sunday with the music and story of Antonio Vivaldi. The choir and our magnificent Director of Worship Arts, Charlotte, spectacularly guided us through the power, the pathos, the love at the heart of the story. As I write it’s Maundy Thursday. The days, the story, our lives continue to move.
I learned a new word this week. Apocaloptimist is used in a new documentary on AI. (I haven’t seen the documentary but I heard a person from the film interviewed.) I thought the combination of the words apocalypse and optimist was interesting and thoughtful – and I thought it captured at least the spirit of the first Easter when, in Matthew and Mark, we read in the story that the women, the first witnesses to the resurrection, are both fearful and full of awe. Apocaloptimists!
The other reason I like the word is Easter is a season and a day for poetry, not prose. A day for new words that cause us to angle our heads and go “hmmmm.” Like good poetry. Easter Day is a day we often think of remarkable music. Why? Music is a message delivery vehicle staying in our hearts and mouths, even when we are not conscious of it. When we think of Easter we think of some of the great hymns like “Christ the Lord is Risen Today,” we think of the great music of Easter, like the Hallelujah Chorus.
I think of poems like ee cummings poem “i thank you god for this most amazing day.” Or the poetry of lucille clifton:
spring song
the green of Jesus
is breaking the ground
and the sweet
smell of delicious Jesus
is opening the house and
the dance of Jesus music
has hold of the air and
the world is turning
in the body of Jesus and
the future is possible
Or the sweet nostalgic poetry of Boulder’s own (late) Andrea Gibson you’ll find on the front cover of the pew paper Easter morning.
I hope you’ll find the poetry in Easter this Sunday, this season, this year.
Keep tellin’ the Story,
Mike
Please enjoy this piece full of fear and awe…(as most good music is) –
This week’s takeaway: Easter is a day and a season of poetry not prose. It invites us to see the world new, and with surprising life where we thought all hope was gone.