After the Ashes
All we Baptists knew was that Lent
was some misspelling of what you
pulled out of the dryer so your clothes
would get good and dry. But while we
may not have known the letter of liturgy
we possessed its spirit for about this time every year we’d begin to stay late after mid-week prayer meeting to rehearse spring’s special – the Easter cantata. That was our giving up, our fasting from time spent on whatever it was we usually did on Wednesday nights after church. As Baptists we believed revelation comes hard so we memorized songs and narration as penance to tell our town of the wonder
working power in the blood of the lamb. Finally our practice would be made almost perfect as Easter broke and our robed voices would bloom with the poetry of good news. But truly, such joy came only after the ashes.
we possessed its spirit for about this time every year we’d begin to stay late after mid-week prayer meeting to rehearse spring’s special – the Easter cantata. That was our giving up, our fasting from time spent on whatever it was we usually did on Wednesday nights after church. As Baptists we believed revelation comes hard so we memorized songs and narration as penance to tell our town of the wonder
working power in the blood of the lamb. Finally our practice would be made almost perfect as Easter broke and our robed voices would bloom with the poetry of good news. But truly, such joy came only after the ashes.
Lovely!
Beautifully written.
I love this. Have given up many a Wednesday night and can still sing some of those cantata songs. – former baptist turned Anglican
So thankful that you grew up Baptist. Your roots have yielded many a thoughtful poem.
This is lovely, the final line so striking. Blessings, John.