Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" Picking out that stunning Easter outfit with matching bonnet and shoes? You go. We're not going to tell you how to run your life.
On the other hand, if you feel slightly queasy at the thought of all that pageantry at the mega-church, please be aware that there are bored gods and goddesses just standing by to take your call. You can just go sit in a field and talk to them.
Every year on this day I'm reminded of a Sunday years ago when my daughter The Heir was about 7 years old. The Heir is a deep thinker and always has been.
We were at this posh Easter Sunday service in a Methodist cathedral. The pastor called all the children to come to the front for a "children's message." It was the usual canned stuff about the holiday not only being about colored eggs. (Yeah, that's pagan anyway.)
After the little session expired, my daughter The Heir tugged at the pastor's gown. He was in a hurry to continue with the fancy service, so he looked down at her with a slight frisson of impatience.
The Heir said: "Why do they call it Good Friday if Jesus suffered on that day?"
Well, tee heee heeee. This pastor, a Man of God, snickered at my daughter with a condescending sneer and said, "Go ask your Sunday School teacher." He said it into the microphone so that all 700 people in the congregation could hear him and laugh at The Heir's expense.
The Heir came to me all confused and said, "Mom, why did they laugh at me? It was a serious question."
So, to make a long story short, we quit the church and decided that from now on if we need to ask Jesus a question we'll do it ourselves.
THE MERLIN OF BERKELEY SPRINGS
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