|(Australian tree fern, photo by Ann Scull of Mustard Seeds)|
We used to live in Pasadena, and every year, we would wake up early on New Year’s Day, walk a few blocks from our apartment and stake our spot along the curb to watch the Rose Parade. Now THERE was a parade. People camped out all night for the good seats – youth groups did fundraisers to hold spots for people who would arrive the next day just in time for the parade to start. When the sidewalks were full and people were all settled on their balconies the whole thing would kick off with fighter jets leaving a trail of smoke overhead, and the floats would begin to appear. Stunningly gorgeous floats that took years of planning, covered in bright flowers, beauty queens and cowboys waving at the crowds, marching bands and acrobats, and all streets swept clean and homeless people kicked off their corners and hidden away for the big event.
And his was no Rose Parade either; this soirée sounds like it was pulled together at the last minute. People lining the street with their cloaks and yelling as he passed by, Jesus atop a borrowed donkey, waving to his fans. Coming to the end of the road and stopping; everyone dispersing and heading home for the night.
PRAYER & LENTEN WORSHIP PROJECT
CROSSES WE BEAR, CROSSES WE SHARE
(photos to come!)