Its been about four years since I’ve really “done” Easter at home. Normally I’m of doing Spring Harvest which is great in and of itself, but this year, staying in parish has really brought a new depth and understanding of Easter. On Maundy Thursday– we set up our act of worship for Friday. As I walked around our 11th century building, clambering round narrow winding staircases, I reflected on the disciples preparing an upper room. As dusk approached a strange sense of loneliness settled. Things were ready and yet the air seemed heavy. On a beautiful Good Friday morning, we gathered outside the North porch to plant a cross. As the supporting pegs were driven into the ground their sound echoed across space and time, reminding us of the all too physical sacrifice of Christ. Then a flood of people came into the building, taking time to reflect using the stations we had constructed. Families came, leaving covered in paint. Adults came, leaving reflective. Strangers came and found a