I love Holy Saturday. I always find Maundy Thursday and Good Friday so draining – I really get into them and it takes it out of me, I can tell you. But Holy Saturday? It's so peaceful. Holy Saturday of the Lord's Rest: in both the words “holy” and “rest” you have the perfect combination. I love the way that – even though it is supposed to be a sombre day, it seems like the day just doesn't have the strength to sustain that sombreness. It can't help it, can't help but point to

Some years ago I was waiting at a pub in Budapest to meet a friend of mine. I was, as I suppose I am wont to do when sitting alone in a public place, eavesdropping on the conversation - in English – of a group at the table next to me. I couldn't quite follow why, but it seems they had ended up in Budapest by chance and not by design, and would have to spend the entire next day there when they had hoped to be somewhere else. “What will we do for a whole day?” said a woman wit

My sister Kathy was a fantastic cook. She was not a fancy cook – no pretentious things with French-sounding names could be found on her menu, no trendy vegetable artfully placed next to an escalope which is not much bigger than a nickel. (“Kale?!?,” I can almost hear her ask, almost see her furrowed brow, “Haven't we got a second cousin named Kale?”) And she always had a plethora of the most obscure things on hand – they could always be found in her untidy, overflowing cupboa

One of the enjoyable functions of Facebook is the memories section which shows what you posted on that day in past years. Since I traditionally haven't used Facebook much for anything except keeping up with family and friends far away and posting photos of places I want to remember, these snapshots into the past are a nice supplement to my ever-present journal. So I read this morning that eight years ago today - Easter Sunday 2012 - having finished services, I was heading to

Nearly two years ago my friend Sandra came to visit from Rome. Flying through Amsterdam, she picked up some of the famous Dutch tulip bulbs to plant in my garden. I am clearly not possessed of a green thumb, but I was more solicitous of those patches where the bulbs were planted than I was with the rest of the garden. Tulips are beautiful, of course, but these were particularly special because they have a connection to such a dear friend whom I don't see as often as I would l

It seems that each time there is a tragic crisis in the world, the inevitable question arises: "Where is God?" It is, of course, a fair enough question - one would like to think that the benevolent Creator has not just abandoned us - but all too often the answers given are so steeped in a kind of theological-speak that the search for the answer gets lost. And it is a search; those who purport to have all the answers to everything seem to forget that we're in the realm of myst