Skip to main content

Easy like Sunday morning

The lyrics to the Commodores song - with the exception of the title - have nothing at all to do with how I feel about Sundays.  I love the laziness of Sunday mornings - nothing to accomplish except to get to Mass, no chores waiting, no rushing to get out the door for school or work.  I get up when I want, play on the computer, cuddle with the cat and make a pot of tea.  Oh, the tea!  Not a hurried, dump some hot water in a commuter mug tea, but an honest-to-goodness pot of tea to relax with and enjoy.

I can take a long shower.  Watch CBS' Sunday Morning.  Catch up on some email.  Check to see if spring is here yet (it's not).

Ooh that's why I'm easy
I'm easy like Sunday morning
That's why I'm easy
I'm easy like Sunday morning!


During Lent, Sundays are a little reprieve from our Lenten fast.  Since Sundays are always days of celebration (like a mini-Easter every week) and never a day of penance, we can choose to forego our Lenten fast.  It's a little reminder of the joy of the Resurrection.

Ooh that's why I'm easy
I'm easy like Sunday morning
That's why I'm easy
I'm easy like Sunday morning!


For a lot of us, Sundays mean a family dinner, a lazy day on the couch to watch sports, or a family outing.  It's a day of rest - ordained by God.  Enjoy!

Comments

Post a Comment

I love comments, even if you don't agree, but please don't leave anonymous posts. A well-mannered reader leaves a name!

Popular posts from this blog

Trying to "end run" God

If you're a football fan, you know what an end run is. From Merriam-Webster:
a football play in which the ballcarrier attempts to run wide around the end of the line We try to "end run" God a lot. I do. I figure I know better. I've got this - no need to worry the Big Guy about such a trivial thing.

Of course, it never works.

Like the puppy above, when we try and evade the tough obstacle (even though we KNOW we will eventually have to do it), we end up - well, off in the bushes.

But oh! How I wished my way worked. I'd love to take a flying leap and land smoothly and gracefully. People would be in awe, as if watching Simone Biles nail a balance beam routine that no one else would even attempt. I would shyly look down and blush - just lightly - and acknowledge (But humbly! Oh so humbly!) my achievement.

But no: I am the one pulling myself out of the bushes, scratches all over my legs and twigs in my hair. I'd hear that gentle but loving voice of God saying, &quo…

Crossing Guard

I saw you
today
as you guided
your little man across that busy street.

You were wearing some
big man boots
and
watching cars and lights.

Your little man had on
black sneakers and
a Mickey Mouse hat
that bounced
as he walked.

He wasn't watching nothing but
your big man boots
and
the white stripes of the crosswalk.

Just before
he got to the sidewalk again,
his step bounced a bit
- he hopped over
a spot where the asphalt broke.

You turned to look,
holding out a hand to
your little man.
Not rushed or angry,
just making sure
he got up
on that sidewalk.

Then you walked on,
in your big man boots,
face into a cold Michigan wind,
with the little man behind,
his hat bouncing.

Be Transfigured

From today's readings: 

Jesus took Peter, James, and his brother, John, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. And he was transfigured before them; his face shone like the and his clothes became white as light.

...we possess the prophetic message that is altogether reliable. You will do well to be attentive to it as to a lamp shining in a dark place until day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.

Today we celebrate the Transfiguration. For whatever reason, Jesus brought three of His disciples to Mount Tabor to witness this miracle. They weren't sure what they were seeing, but they knew enough to throw themselves to the ground in the presence of Almighty God. St. Peter (who never did anything halfway) excitedly declares that he will erect tents on the mountain as a way of memorializing the event. But Jesus tells him and the others that they are not to tell people what they witnessed - at least not yet.

In the second reading, the requirement to be quiet has bee…