We were at old friends for Easter lunch today, most of it held outdoors overlooking greening woods and daffodils and other spring color explosions. If you stayed in the sun, it was warm. Some of the guests had been to church this morning and one of our kindly, generous, funny and alarmingly energetic hosts had even read a lesson from St. Paul then
We had lamb, which was delicious but that we'd never prepare on our own, because of animal-rights sensibilities and heart disease. But the beast was dead; too late to save it, and it was delicious.
Of the around 15 people there, I'll bet no one believed in the theology being celebrated. They believed, as Joan Didion put it, in "the sound of The Book of Common Prayer'' while tabling the miraculous events described in the New Testament.