Resurrection Cupcakes.

Okay, yeah, I'm not sure it works, either.

But whenever I looked for Easter cupcakes on the Internet, all I got were eggs and chicks and green-tinted icing.

And that's not what I mean by Easter.  And I thought that maybe the whole celebrating-the-resurrection-with-cutesy-cupcakes thing was probably a bad idea.  But I kept trying.

I tried googling "resurrection symbols," which turned up a lot of hits for the Resurrection Eggs thing, which involves putting symbols of both the Passion and the Resurrection in plastic eggs, with, I guess, the idea that they actually could then be Easter eggs.

And I liked that idea, and a lot of the symbols seemed like things even I could turn into cupcake decorations.

But then I thought that cupcakes with torture devices on them were, you know, not quite it, either.  I didn't really want crucifixion cupcakes.  I wanted Easter cupcakes.

So I went back to the actual resurrection stories, and came up with a handful of symbols I thought would work:

An empty tomb, because, duh.
Coins or a money bag, for the bribe for the soldiers (Matthew).
An angel, also duh.  (In Mark, he's a young man, but in the other three, one or two angels show up.)
Strips of linen (Luke & John) and a folded headcloth (John).
Broken bread (Luke).
Fish (Luke, and, in a different way, John).
Dove (Holy Spirit, John).
Hand with nail mark (John).

I was actually planning to try them all.  But 1) tummy bug, 2) nearing the end of the semester, and 3) my general sculpting inadequacy.

So this was the best I could do:

I've no doubt some of you could take this and make it truly Pinterest-worthy.

If you could get all eight of the ones I came up with, you could probably make a scripture activity of it--find the story the cupcake applies to, or hide a little scripture verse on the bottom of the cupcake or something.

But the [our last name] boys, who can't even manage matching socks, will not mind, I think, my rudimentary success.

Second Week of Advent

Mini-Max wants all y'all Jesus people out there to remember that it's the second week of Advent.  He's singing "People Look East" and "Lo He Comes With Clouds Descending," not "Have a Holly Jolly Christmas" or "O Christmas Tree" or "Silent Night." (Definitely not Silent Night.  He's only a month and a half old.  Nighttime is still snacktime.)

Prayers For an Unworthy Soul

Some occasions tempt me more than others to declare a particular soul unworthy of the grace of God.

But that is, of course, the very definition of the grace of God.  And so I give thanks for the reminder that my soul, too, has no claim to deserve the prayers of the saints, the forgiveness on which it depends, or the beatitude which God's grace imparts.

And I offer a prayer for the unworthy departed, and for those who must somehow learn to live the grace we proclaim:

May he know the love and grace of God in death that he seemed not to know or value in life. And may we all repent of our sadistic delight in the deaths of those for whom our Lord was pleased to die.

What I Read Last Week

(Besides, of course, a million papers on Hinduism.)

This is a lovely reflection for the beginning of Lent.  Even we high-church folk are a little childish in our church-going, sometimes.

I listened to this, rather than read it, and then I repented of having preached a merely entertaining Ash Wednesday sermon.

I read this lovely collection of reflections by women religious, and was reminded that a life hedged in by promises and renunciations is no less full than the allegedly unrestricted life.  Indeed, self-denial creates the conditions for an unlooked-for kind of flourishing.

I read this, and then stridently repeated it near verbatim to my offspring.  And then I wished the accompanying chart had provided guidelines for the adult consumption of screen entertainment.

Advent for the Little Ones

I always have grandiose plans for Advent, that always take perfect shape in my head about December 15th.

One of these years, I will remember to put those plans, and the equipment for enacting them, in an accessible place on January 6th, when all the nativity stuff comes down and is stored away until the next year.

This year, however, I managed to get out our Advent Calendar and the wire frame to our Advent wreath.  Hopefully, I will be able to secure a few candles and some greenery before dinner tonight.  I may even, if I am very lucky, find a copy of the Advent booklet I put together for my church last year.

If not, we will do the short, short version.

When I wrote this for the Advent booklet for my church, I said that it was "especially for use with small children or those with special needs"--that is, for the Little Ones among us.

But it's also a good Emergency Use liturgy.  Because slackers, bumblers, and over-committed domestic engineers surely have special needs of their own.  And they can take great comfort in the parable of the generous vineyard owner and his eleventh-hour workers.

So, if you can't manage anything else, do this with your advent wreath.

If you're behind on your wreath-making, print of 24 copies of an Advent Wreath coloring page, and every night color the right number of candles on the page at the candle-lighting part of this liturgy.

A very, very short Advent liturgy

Leader: Jesus came to earth to save us.  He is coming again to bring us to his home.  He wants to come into our hearts every day.

[Light the correct number of advent candles: one during the first week, two during the second week, three during the third week, and four from the fourth Sunday until Christmas Day.]

Leader: This is the message we heard from Jesus and are telling you: God is light, and in him there is no darkness at all. (1 John 1:5)

[Teach the children this prayer, or say it on behalf of those who cannot speak for themselves]: Dear God, send your Light, your Son, Jesus, into our hearts.  Help us to follow him so that we may be your children.  Amen.

[Sing the first verse of I Want to Walk as a Child of the Light, UMH 206, together.]
I want to walk as a child of the Light
I want to follow Jesus.
God set the stars to give light to the world.
The star of my life is Jesus.
In him there is no darkness at all.
The night and the day are both alike.
The Lamb is the light of the city of God.
Shine in my heart, Lord Jesus.   

This liturgy was composed by me for my church's use.  I offer it freely for your domestic use or for publication within a (single) local church body.  I would love to hear from you if you use it in this way, and your kindness in crediting me would be appreciated.
 Please link back to this blog entry if you share this liturgy online.
Please contact me for permission to publish it in other contexts.
I do not own the copyright to I Want to Walk as a Child of the Light.  You will need to investigate licensing that hymn if you want to include it in any sort of publication or performance.