Yesterday we celebrated the Last Supper together in Sunday School. It means everyone taking the name of a disciple or hanger on (because we have more than exactly thirteen people in Sunday School--isn't that great! This year I passed out names like Zaccheus and Nichodemus and, I won't lie, a couple of women, like Mary and Salome. But I made my usual big speech about there not being any women there except maybe to serve and cook the food.) and assigning someone to be Jesus and then sending Peter on John on ahead to prepare....
and then sitting around and eating matzo and grape juice mixed with apple juice. Jesus has to read the words of institution but after that its a total free for all for conversation. This year the little girls all took turns standing up and breaking the bread, or really shattering it every where. And the bigger boys tried very hard to start a food fight but unfortunately were inhibited at ever turn by the phalanx of adults on every side. A good time was had by all, even though many tried hard to cry about Jesus going on from there to die.
So now we're in full Holy Week hysteria.
I wrote down everything that I think I know for sure will be happening and then let Matt try to teach me the Texas Two Step. But the baby always takes grave offense whenever anyone tries to dance without her so we ended up having to just sit and cry for a while. Well, I wasn't crying. Yet. Check back in a few days.
No comments:
Post a Comment