First Sunday after Easter

This morning's celebration of Holy Communion began with my favorite hymn: number 87 ("Welcome, happy morning!"). It was sung often at the parish of my youth and it's still a joy to sing. I love its melody, its energy, and that it's full of doctrinal goodness. There were many voices behind me (I sat in the front pew) and J. played it perfectly; it was a real treat.

Twenty minutes earlier, I wouldn't have bet that there would be so many voices. As we drove into the parking lot, we saw only a few cars; I mentioned to Deirdre that today is also called Low Sunday, and that the turnout might match that name. I guess folks just arrived a bit later than usual, because by the time Fr. McGrath and the acolytes processed into the sanctuary, the nave was nicely full.

(Incidentally, I was taught that few scholars actually believe the "Low" of "Low Sunday" has anything to with attendance, but that it's more likely derived from the old sequentia of the day, which started with "laudes". Wikipedia mentions this as well.)

We sang two other powerful Easter hymns today also: number 99 ("O sons and daughters, let us sing!") and number 89 ("At the Lamb's high feast we sing"). Good stuff.

After Holy Communion and an hour or so of socializing downstairs, the ACW met. As when they last met, I was left to watch some of the younger children, including Prudence, Newton, L. and D. They were well-behaved and I enjoyed my time with them.

A parting conversation with Fr. McGrath reminded me that the synod is fast approaching. I'm due to be interviewed by the diocese's Standing Committee there as an aspirant to the diaconate. I don't know what preparation is required or expected, but whatever it is I need to get busy. Please pray that I discern and obey our Lord's will in this matter.

Lastly, I wrote back on Tuesday that I'd describe an interesting liturgical scenario that arose on Easter Monday. Last week was the end of a really tough, month-long push at work to wrap up a project, and I just haven't had much time or energy to sit down and write. I'll make the time and muster the energy tomorrow (I have to do so for the taxes, anyway).