Morning after: Consider the lilies

Well, it was a lovely Easter --- lots of flowers, candles (an even dozen counting the Paschal) blazing again, triumphant hymns, "Allelulias" and "Amens" and then brunch --- wonderful brunch.

A nap ensued, followed by a little lawn mowing, working on a newsletter and searching for the lense that had popped out of my favorite pair of glasses and disappeared at a crucial moment. In between, I tuned in online to watch the Easter Festival Eucharist at Trinity Church, Wall Street.

That sounds a little odd, but I'd rather watch a stretch of well-executed liturgy than a well-played ball game. Although not fond of incense, which makes me sneeze, I have great admiration for a talented thurifer, armed with a thurible, who can swing that sucker in creative patterns without knocking a communicant senseless whilst censing --- or setting the church on fire, which our vicar very nearly did once.

Now the question arises, what to do with all those Easter lilies? We ordered four from Janet, and three more wandered in. That's a modest floral investment, although the altar vases were overflowing with white and gold, too --- the only occasion during the year when they're taken out to be filled.

The friend who does flowers for one of Chariton's big churches asked last week how many lilies we'd ordered. "Only four."

"We're having 50," she said. Yikes! There appeared to be hundreds at Trinity.

Most of these lilies will end up in the garbage, I'll bet. They're beautiful, but too ungainly and inconvenient for most when removed from their Easter morning church setting.

I like to bring some of ours home and plant them. I'ts not complicated --- just stick the lilies in the ground among other foliage at about the same depth they were in the pot and cut the stalks down as the leaves yellow. As a rule, some new green will sprout, then next year the lilies will bloom again, although on lily time rather than florist time.

Easter, like the lilies, is such a transitory holiday, even moreso than the lesser festival Christmas and those poinsettias that can go on for months. That seems odd. Birth is fairly common, but resurrection --- quite the trick.

There's a lot more than lily bulbs to take home and plant, I suppose, if we can be bothered to go to the trouble (and I'm not good at it).

How about  Matthew 22:34-40: "But when the Pharisees had heard that he had put the Sadducees to silence, they were gathered together. Then one of them, which was a lawyer, asked him a question, tempting him, and saying, Master, which is the great commandment in the law? Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets."

And that commandment refined and elevated at the Last Supper: "A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another. By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another." (John 13:34-35)

So I went online Sunday afternoon, too, looking for a little love. No, no --- not that. Just the usual news and commentary sites. Didn't find much.

We're under a freeze watch here tonight, so I'd hold off for a day or two and just watch the lilies bloom --- then it will be time to plant.