Journey Through Holy Week to Easter

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Sorry to swipe a line from Charles Dickens, but that sums up last week. It was Holy Week, which made me want it to be full of idyllic spring weather, sunshine, and flowers as we approached Easter. It was not that. It was a mix of days wet and dry, bright and gray, busy and boring. But first, a diversion –

Way back in 2012, we started watching a television series from the BBC called Call the Midwife. It quickly became one of our favorite shows and here, fourteen years later, we are still watching it. If you haven't seen it or don't know what it is, it is about a group of nurse midwives working in the East End of London beginning in the 1950s and, so far, going forward into the 1970s. The nurse midwives work out of an Anglican nursing convent, Nonnatus House. It was originally based on the memoirs of Jennifer Worth, but now extends far beyond the scope of her books. It is my favorite television show. I have felt more emotion watching this show than any other. I shed tears, some happy, some sad, in every episode. I bring this up because we recently finished watching season 15. 

***SPOILER ALERT*** – if you haven't watched this season yet, you might not want to skip past the next section. 

Over the years of the show, characters have come and gone for one reason or another – marriage, moving on to other things, death. There are only a handful left from the first season. One of my favorite original characters has always been Sister Monica Joan, played by the amazing Judy Parfitt. Sister Monica Joan is the oldest nun in the convent, a complex character, struggling with the onset of dementia, at times philosophical, practical, mystical, wise, profound, and oddly silly. At the end of season 15, she finally passes away. It was an emotional parting, one of the most touching moments in the entire series for me. One of the reasons I was so moved by it was that, at the end, the spirit of her great friend and fellow nurse midwife, Sister Evangelina (another character I loved, played by Pam Ferris, who died in season 5), comes to take her on to the next life. I loved that. I have always felt that, at the end, someone we love, perhaps many, will greet us as we pass on. I felt it at the death of my sister and my father. At Sister Monica Joan's funeral, the head of the convent, Sister Julienne, reads lines from a poem I'd never heard of, The Old Astronomer to His Pupil, by a poet I'd never heard of, Sarah Williams (1837-1868). I thought the words were beautiful and profound and fitting for Easter.

Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;

I have loved the stars too truly to be fearful of the night.

I must say good-bye, my pupil, for I cannot longer speak;
Draw the curtain back for Venus, ere my vision grows too weak:
It is strange the pearly planet should look red as fiery Mars,
God will mercifully guide me on my way amongst the stars.

Sister Monica Joan (Judy Parfitt).

At a time when so much of what is offered on the television is violent, vulgar, and offensive, I cherish Call the Midwife. If you don't know it, check it out, and start at season one. You can watch it on Netflix, Amazon Prime, or AppleTV.

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Monday was a busy day. The forecast said it would be the only dry day of the week. I went outdoors to work as soon as it was light and worked all day, nonstop. I worked on my raised bed high tunnels. I stacked the apple wood from the tree we cut down. I weeded flowerbeds. Later in the afternoon, Hannah and Miriam planted onions for me while I worked at cleaning up the big garden. The day was mostly sunny and warm. In the late afternoon it began to cloud up and cool off. By then I'd done about all I could for the day. I was pretty worn out. But I was glad I accomplished what I did. Around midnight that night we had a thunderstorm. It went on for several hours with lightning, thunder, and pouring rain.

The frames for the raised bed high tunnels.

The planted onion bed.

After a very busy and fulfilling Monday, the rest of the week was wet. Unable to continue any work outdoors, and in an effort to keep my brain busy, I went through a shifting range of emotions. At first I brooded in frustration as I watched the rain prevent my plans. I realized that brooding was futile and tried to adjust my focus. The rain might be inconvenient, but it was also a blessing, washing winter from the earth, renewing our groundwater, letting the creeks and rivers flow. Then I became contemplative, looking for other blessings hidden by my inability to see things as they really are. Then I turned my thoughts on the events of Holy Week, looking to bring things into a clearer, more eternal perspective.

I am guilty of looking at the world in its present condition and letting my heart and mind seethe at all the wickedness constantly presented to me through various media. The world wants me to be angry and to hate and I am easily persuaded to do so. But it wears me out mentally – and spiritually. When I see that happening, I try to counteract the negativity with things that uplift me. I seek after things virtuous, lovely, of good report, and praiseworthy. Last week I focused on looking for things holy, more permanent, and purer than the vanity and confusion of the world. Every day I read from the Bible the events that took place on that day of Holy Week, and pondered on it. And I chose a piece of Easter-inspired music for each day.

Sunday

Holy Week actually began last Sunday, Palm Sunday, marking the Savior's Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem. He rode into the city, knowing he would be killed. He was hailed by the crowd as a king, the heir to David's throne. Then he retired to Bethany and stayed in the home of his friends, Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. We sang Easter hymns in church that day, hymns that I love.

Tiny daffodils in the woodland garden.

Monday

Monday morning, before I began my busy day, I read about that Monday so long ago. On that day, Jesus returned from Bethany to Jerusalem and went up to the temple. He cleansed the temple for the second time during his ministry. He drove out the unholy moneychangers and then healed the blind and the lame that came to him there. As I thought about this, it occurred to me that I go to the temple to have the worldly things driven from my heart and to be spiritually uplifted and healed.

I listened to Gustav Mahler's Symphony No. 2 'Resurrection' that morning. It is my favorite of his symphonies. The final movement, when the orchestra and chorus swell into the glorious "Aufersteh'n, ja aufersteh'n wirst du mein Herz, in einem Nu! – Rise again, yes, rise again, will you, my heart, in an instant!" I always shed tears.

Chionodoxa in the long border.

Tuesday

On Tuesday, Jesus went up onto the Mount of Olives and gave the powerful Olivet Discourse found in Matthew chapters 24 and 25 and in Joseph Smith—Matthew in the Pearl of Great Price. In it he taught His disciples about the Last Days and his Second Coming. He taught four important parables: the Fig Tree, the Ten Virgins, the Talents, and the Sheep and the Goats. As I read through those chapters, I thought about his warnings for the Last Days, these days that we are living in. He said there would be wars and rumors of wars, nation would rise against nation, there would be famine, pestilence, and earthquakes. He told us to beware of deception, that it would be a time when people would be offended and full of hate, when there would be false prophets, iniquity, when the love of many would wax cold. It sounds like a normal news day for us.

I listened to Bach's glorious Easter Oratorio that morning. It was a perfect counterpoint to the rainy gloom outside.

We had another storm that night, pounding rain, but no thunder and lightning.

A patch of squill in the long border.

Wednesday

The scriptures don't tell us what Jesus did that Wednesday. He was in Bethany. Most assume he was with his disciples and friends in the home of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus, resting. I spent that morning listening to parts one and two of Handel's Messiah. That night was the beginning of Passover, but we didn't hold our Seder until Friday.

Siberian squill.

Thursday

Thursday is known as Maundy Thursday. I was intrigued by the meaning of "maundy," so I did some research. It comes from the Middle English maunde, through the Old French mandé, going back to the Latin mandatum, which means "commandment" and is the first word in the Latin church service for that day, Mandatum novum do vobis, "A new commandment I give unto you" (John 13:34), spoken by Jesus at the Last Supper, which took place on Thursday in that Holy Week. It was on that day in the evening, after keeping the Passover with his disciples, that Jesus entered the Garden of Gethsemane where he took upon Him the sins of mankind. It was on that night that he was betrayed by Judas and tried before the Sanhedrin in the home of Caiaphas the high priest. In the early morning between Thursday and Friday, Peter denied that he knew Jesus three times before the cock crowed.

My music on Thursday morning was the album This Is The Christ by the Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square. The title song on that album is another piece of music that makes me cry every time I hear it.

The Thayns arrived late on Thursday evening. Although they arrived just in time to go to bed, things immediately began to feel festive.

The last of the crocuses.

Friday

Friday was Good Friday. I wondered why we call it "good," and again – more research. It dates back to Middle English when "good" also was used to mean "holy." On this day, Jesus endured false accusations, mockery, scourging, and crucifixion. That morning I listened, as I do every year, to Bach's masterpiece, the St. Matthew Passion. It is some of the most sacred, somber, heartrending music I know, beautiful in its composition and in the story it tells. It ends with the lifeless body of Jesus in the tomb and the chorus sings: 

Wir setzen uns mit Tränen nieder,    We sit down in tears
und rufen dir im Grabe zu:                and call to you in the grave: 
Ruhe sanfte, sanfte ruh!                    Rest gently, gently rest!

The Shilligs arrived home from their long winter's sojourn during the week. We are so glad they are home again. Kurt and I took a garden walk right away and discussed what needs to be done.  Kurt got right to work and began tilling on Friday during a brief respite from the rain.

Tilling in the  big garden.

Friday evening we held our Passover Seder at the Foster's house. There were twenty-three of us, the Howes, Thayns, Fosters, Shilligs, Kuprovs, a sister from the branch, and four missionaries. We read the Haggadah and retold the story of our deliverance from bondage through the blood of the Lamb. We had our traditional menu – apricot chicken, potato latkes, matzo ball soup, hard boiled eggs, deviled eggs, vegetable kugel, asparagus, and for dessert, sweet almond bread, chocolate cake with whipped cream and berries, and homemade candies. It was all so delicious!

Loading the car to go over to Foster's for Passover.

Frying latkes.

The table set and ready.

The Seder, view one.

The Seder, view two.

The Seder plate.

Saturday

Saturday was the day that Jesus' body lay in the tomb. We know from the Apostle Peter and from latter-day revelation what took place in the spirit world during that time. Peter taught: "For Christ also hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh, but quickened by the spirit: by which also he went and preached unto the spirits in prison (1 Peter 3:18-19). For for this cause was the gospel preached also to them that are dead, that they might be judged according to men in the flesh, but live according to God in the spirit (1 Peter 4:6). In Doctrine and Covenants 138, the prophet Joseph F. Smith recorded the revelation he received while pondering on those verses. He saw the righteous dead assembled in paradise and Christ's ministry among them. I love the doctrine that every one who has ever lived or will live will have an opportunity to hear the gospel, either in this life or the next, and accept or reject it. God is no respecter of persons.

My music that morning was Rob Gardner's Lamb of God. I only discovered this music a few years ago. It is a dramatic musical portrayal of the final days of the life of Jesus, from the raising of Lazarus, to the crucifixion, and the resurrection, told through the perspective of Peter, John, Thomas, Mary and Martha of Bethany, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of Jesus. It is a very moving work. I try to listen to it every year around Easter.

That morning June helped Stacey make cinnamon rolls. This was General Conference weekend and it has become a tradition to have cinnamon rolls. Before Conference, Stacey had the granddaughters help her with a family history project.

Making cinnamon rolls while listening to the Tabernacle Choir.

The family history project.

A large part of our day on Saturday was taken up by General Conference. We watched the sessions at noon and at 4:00. The session at noon was a Solemn Assembly where we sustained our new prophet and president of the church, Dallin H. Oaks. The talks in both sessions were wonderful.

In between the sessions, we had a birthday celebration for Florence. She will turn six on Wednesday. We decided to celebrate early since we were all together. She wanted a flower themed party and Miriam made her a flower cake and she got lots of flowery gifts.

Florence reading to me.

Decorations for Florence's birthday celebration.

Florence and her birthday cake.

 

We had a between the sessions Easter egg hunt. The adults hid eggs all over the Shillig's yard and the big garden. Each child was given a specific color of egg to find. They had a lot of fun.

The Easter egg hunters.

Russell on the Easter egg hunt.

We also managed to get some garden work done. The weather was variable. It rained and then the sun would come out. The temperature was beautiful, 75°! We worked on the raised bed tunnels. I got a bit of weeding done in the long border. I planted a bed of spinach and lettuce.

Sarah and I working on the tunnels.

The tunnels so far.

That evening some of the family, Stacey, Tabor, Tosh, Roman, and all the children went to the movies. It was the Super Mario Galaxy Movie. I wasn't interested in going. That's not my kind of movie. They had fun. I had a quiet two hours. I went out to watch the sun go down and listen to the twilight frog chorus.

Sunday

It was early on Sunday, the first day of the week that Mary Magdalene went to the tomb and found it empty. I especially love the account in the Gospel of John where Mary stands weeping at the tomb and two angels question her and say "Woman, why weepest thou? whom seekest thou? She saith unto them, Because they have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid him. And when she had thus said, she turned herself back, and saw Jesus standing, and knew not that it was Jesus. Jesus saith unto her, Woman, why weepest thou? whom seekest thou? She supposing him to be the gardener, saith unto him, Sir, if thou have bourne him hence, tell me where thou hast laid him, and I will take him away. Jesus saith unto her, Mary. She turned herself, and saith unto him, Rabboni; which is to say, Master. Jesus saith unto her, Touch me not; for I am not yet ascended to my Father; but go to my brethren, and say unto them, I ascend unto my Father, and your Father; and to my God, and your God" (John 20:11-17).

This Easter morning the weather was gray and rainy, but I filled my heart with light. I listened, as I always do, to the last part of Handel's Messiah, that starts with the beautiful aria, "I know that my Redeemer liveth" and continues with the glorious musical setting of the words of Paul in 1 Corinthians 15, "The trumpet shall sound and the dead shall be raised," and ends with the mighty, "Worthy is the Lamb" from Revelation 5:12.

After everyone was up and about, the grandchildren had to find their Easter baskets. The baskets were full of toys, Legos, and candy. 

Russell with his Easter basket haul.

Later we watched the first session of General Conference and then went down to the Foster's to eat our Easter feast. We had our traditional menu – ham (from our own pigs), funeral potatoes, pickled eggs and beets, zesty carrots, and fruit salad. For dessert we had pound cake with strawberries and more homemade candies, chocolate covered peanut butter eggs and coconut eggs. Some of us stayed at Foster's to watch the final session and some of us (me) came home to watch it. It was a wonderful General Conference and a wonderful Easter.

Loading our plates with Easter feast.

The feast.

I hope you had a joyous Easter!

Christ is risen! He has risen indeed!