For Beege, a calendar of this week’s services:
Saturday: Matins 8 am, liturgy 9:30 am, vespers 7 pm
Palm Sunday: Matins 8 am, liturgy 10 am, bridegroom service 6 pm
Monday: Pre-Sanctified liturgy 6:30 pm
Tuesday: Matins 6 am, Pre-Sanc 6:30 pm
Wednesday: Matins 6 am, Pre-Sanc 5:30 pm, Unction 7:30 pm
Thursday: Liturgy 2 pm, Passion Gospels 7 pm
Friday: Royal Hours 6 am, Vespers 4 pm, Matins 7 pm
Saturday: Liturgy & baptisms 11 am, Reading of Acts 9 pm, Midnight Office 11:15 pm, Paschal Matins & Liturgy 12 am
Easter Sunday: Vespers 6 pm
There are maybe a few people who go to ALL of those. I am NOT one. Now you can console yourself. Oh, and keep in mind – if services seem close together, that’s probably because there’s no break in between. And the Holy Saturday liturgy & baptisms? I’d say I get home around 4 or 5 pm. And I tend to come back around 11 pm (because otherwise I’d fall asleep and/or not get a parking spot) and head home between 3 and 4 am.
But those two services? Those are my favorite out of the whole year. And they involve food. At the end of the first one, we bring tables into the church, loaded down with dried fruit & nuts, fresh bread, juice, and port. We’re SO hungry and it’s like the best thing you’ve ever eaten. You get a little tipsy from the port and an empty stomach, and you sit on the steps leading to the altar, and you talk and eat. At the end of the midnight service, we have a big potluck, so that takes up some time.
On to other matters! Tyka, wretch that she is, got “lost” walking home from work and stood me up at the library. Oh well.
I did wear the socks yesterday, with boldness and without condemnation. As I was walking up to church I thought to myself, “Self, this weather is much too fabulous for Holy Week. Where is the somber downpour? Whence the sunshine?” I ended up taking off my socks and shoes just to cool down a little. And lo, just as we began the Unction service, we were joined by the best thunderstorm I’ve seen since we left Indy in 1987.
According to my memory, thunderstorms in the great city of my birth involved me sitting in a large closet with a friend, carding wool. Yes, you read that right. And hey, another example of closet play! I always think of this when there’s thunder, and I’m pretty sure that’s why I love thunderstorms so much.
But this thunderstorm – it just kept going. First there was the rustle and the heavy spatter of rain in the parking lot, at which point we rushed en masse from the humid church (well, those of us who left our windows down). Then a lovely flash of lightening, and then a noise like God’s stomach growling. I could sympathize; mine was pretty growly, too.
Today I was scheduled to babysit the three youngsters, and instead of sitting around and making messes in the house, I took the younger two to OMSI where they rompted and played with sand and water and made pictures with stamps. I could barely keep track of both of them but fortunately they managed to not disappear on me. It’s always funny to go places like that where there are a ton of moms and kids but you’re not a mom. Especially since they’re young enough to theoretically be mine. But nope, I get to drop them off and say ‘that was fun!’ and go home and blog.