I failed to line up a musician for Easter Sunday at little Grace Church in Dayton, WA. Our singing is normally led by a member of the congregation who noodles out an approximation of the tune on the organ, but she’s on vacation. Easter has often been adorned by music majors from one of the colleges in Walla Walla, but my contacts there have dwindled to nothing. Nevertheless, we will rejoice in our celebration of the Resurrection.
We, borrowing a suggestion from the Methodists, will lustily sing a cappella in our usual multipart, multi keyed harmony. The church will be overflowing with flowers brought in by the arm load by a ninety year old member who will have “borrowed” them from her neighbors’ yards. Amid the solemnity of an Episcopalian Eucharist, we will shout out our Alleluias, and not take ourselves so seriously that it prevents us from breaking out in spontaneous laughter at almost anything. The blessing and dismissal will have been offered, but the Eucharist, the celebration, will continue, possibly in the church, but more likely down at the Country Cupboard bakery, as is usual on Sundays.
If you have ever wondered whether Grace is a real place, look it up on the web. It’s not fancy but they do have their own website: www.gracechurchdaytonwa.org.