Easter ... a re-post, a reminder

If you are new to "Footnotes from History," this will be a new post. If not, then you may remember is from last year ... but I still need the reminder (as I plan Easter baskets for my grandkids). If you are like me, you often re-read books or re-watch movies. I hope you won't mind a re-run here.

Human History's Crowning Event

Next weekend we'll be commemorating the single most important event in all of human history. A first century itinerant teacher's death. But don't forget the rest of that bit of history. Jesus wasn't just a great teacher. He also created the known universe. He was the only One who could solve my sin problem, and He did it ... and then He proved it by leaving the empty tomb. Imagine. Climbing out of one's own grave. The ultimate "it is finished." I've spent a great part of my adult life trying to wrap my brain around that concept and I just can't do it. Faith has to step in at some point, because it just isn't humanly comprehensible. Which is OK by me. Who needs a God they can explain.

Listening to this song makes me think of  the apostles gathered in a dark place. Hiding away ... and wishing they could see a way through the darkness that descended with Jesus--their hope--lay in a tomb. Thought I'd share that song with you as part of this unconventional post.

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In one of my former lives I was a secretary at the University of Nebraska (back in the day we were still called secretaries). One of my bosses was a devout Roman Catholic whose wife wrote an award-winning column for the local newspaper. I'd like to share her 1986 column about Easter. It isn't intended to spoil the fun ... fun is great ("He gives us all good things to richly enjoy"). But it's also a challenge to remember the primary purpose for this season we celebrate every spring. Mrs. Costello was the mother of a tribe of kids, and I hear her challenging herself with these words. To remember the primary purpose. Wisdom from over a quarter of a century ago by one Mary Costello:

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Two thousand years ago, an itinerant preacher was hanged as a common criminal. He died on some trumped-up charges, probably because he was different. Mainly, the problem was he didn't fit in with those in authority, and they were afraid of him. He was going around the countryside doing some strange things and stirring up trouble. So they thought they'd better get rid of him--as quickly and as efficiently as possible.

And that's how we continue to commemorate his death--as quickly and efficiently as possible. "Oh, yes. Good Friday. I remember that. But I have to work."

This man, who was  God, died for us. To redeem us, and to bring us to his father. And we remember his death with pink stuffed bunnies and chocolate eggs.

He was tortured, hung on a cross with nails in his hands and feet. He was beat with a whip and tortured with a helmet of nails pushed into his scalp. I'll try to remember that between commercials on "Miami Vice" Friday night.

His mother placed him in the tomb and arranged the clothes around him with her own hands. Well, some businesses do close at noon on Good Friday.

After three days in the tomb, the preacher rose from the dead. It was the most magnificent, glorious miracle in the history of mankind. To celebrate that event, I'll get all the kids new shoes.

It was an event that changed the course of history, for all time. It was the focal point, the turning point of man's existence. "Church on Easter. Yes, that would be nice. All the little girls in their bonnets and pink sweaters. But we'll probably just sleep in--haven't had a Sunday off in ages."

His resurrection says to us: "Have hope. I love you. I came to save you; to bring you to heaven with me." So we dig out the little plastic baskets, fill them with green plastic grass and arrange chocolate eggs and jelly beans. Jelly beans have become a great symbol of hope to all Americans. Does that strike you as strange?

To everyone he met, after he rose and left the tomb, he said, "My peace be with you." In memory of that, and to bring peace into my own life, I will spend the entire week before Easter dashing around town, buying candy and eggs and shoes and new stockings to match dresses that will only be worn once, and we will spend Sunday eating too much and fighting over who ate all the marshmallow chicks.

His friends were so happy to see him, they cried. They understood. Between the egg hunt and the ham and scalloped potatoes, if I have a minute, I'll try to remember how they felt.

He lived and died for us, so that we might have life everlasting, but also so that our lives could be filled with hope and peace and joy. In the weeks after Easter--when the world is filled with new life and tiny blue lilac buds, and palest green grass and all the wonders spring brings to us--I'll try to remember his life, and what it has taught me. I hope it's more than pink stuffed bunnies.

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In these approaches our celebration of His resurrection, may you 

Pride in "Pride & Prejudice"

Two hundred years ago, one of my favorite stories by one of my favorite authors was published. Pride & Prejudice. If you haven't read the book, I'm betting you've seen either the movie or the series.

Most people have a preference as to favorite actors playing their favorite characters. For fun I thought I'd compare the two versions and vote on which version of the characters were my favorites.         

 

SERIES: Elizabeth Bennet--Jennifer Ehle.

WINNER.                     

It was was a very bright and strong portrayal.           

                           

MOVIE: Elizabeth Bennet – Keira Knightly Not enough of a presence in the movie.

SERIES: Mr.Darcy – Colin Firth WINNER 

THE Mr. Darcy. There is no other.

Ask anyone.

 
 
MOVIE: Mr. Darcy -- Matthew Macfadyen
Very handsome, but no one can
top Colin Firth.  Sorry abou that.

 

 

SERIES: Mr. Wickham -- Adrian Lukis
Very charming and sleazy.

MOVIE: Mr. Wickham – Rupert Friend WINNER.  I might be prejudiced, but seeing him in “Young Victoria” makes me a forever fan

SERIES: Jane Bennet -- Susannah Harker Sweet, but hated the hair so much I couldn't believe she was the "pretty one" even though she is very pretty. She seemed kind of vacant.                 MOVIE: Jane Bennet -- Karen Wasyloski  WINNER So lovely and sweet. Had some life in her.

SERIES: Mr. Collins -- David Bamber WINNER
Again, the hair was a factor.  So greasy
and icky.  And he was so fawning I simply
had to be disgusted by him.








MOVIE: Mr. Collins -- Tom Hollander
Just didn't buy it.




















The other sisters, the mother and father, Mr. Bingley . . . the actors in both versions did fine.
The costumes?  Although the bodices in the TV series were sometimes too stiff, the sacks that passed for everyday dresses in the movie made the Bennets look far poorer than they were.

Overall, the mini-series wins hands down.  I just don't think you can edit this wonderful story down to a 2 hour movie.  What do you think?
   
To cap off my opinion . . . here's one of my favorite pictures of Lizzie and Mr. Darcy's wedding.   True love does exist!

If you haven't read the book, there are hundreds of versions, but one I love is an annotated version that has interesting and sometimes funny comments and trivia. 

Also, if you'd like to read a biography of Jane Austen, that's factual but reads like a novel (it's Jane telling her life story), try my novel, Just Jane.  If you'd like to read an excerpt, click here.
     There's good reason that Jane's stories have lasted 200 years./Nancy

A Gift to Give Yourself

A Note from Stephanie:   

In the middle of the madness that will be December (in spite of our best efforts to control it), I hope that you will find time to give yourself a gift, too—time with a favorite book. Time with your feet propped up. Time with a cup of joe or cocoa or tea. Time. The best gift of all.

       
I thought I’d share two of the books I return to at this time of year (and why).  

Journey into Christmas by Bess Streeter Aldrich. 

Bess Streeter Aldrich is my favorite story-teller. She’s “the other Nebraska author” that few seem to know about. (Everyone knows about Willa Cather.) Aldrich is “softer.” Her stories are gentle and filled with hope. Journey into Christmas (first published in 1949) is a collection of short stories guaranteed to bring tears to your eyes and encouragement to your soul. The themes are timeless (difficult economies and tough times) but hope reigns eternal. And hope wins. Aldrich’s gift with imagery resonates with me. For example:

     “Bellfield is similar to a hundred other small Midwestern towns. From the air its building look like so many dishes clustered together on a flat table. The covered soup tureen is the community hall. The red vase in the center is the courthouse. The silver-tipped salt shaker is the water tank.

     There are few changes in the ensemble from year to year. Only the tablecloth is different. There is a vivid green one for spring, a checkered green-and-tan one for  summer, a mottled yellow-red-and-brown one for autumn. Just now—the day before  Christmas—nature, the busy housekeeper, had dressed the table in a snow-white cloth for the first time …”

            In another story, where children think that Christmas has become too much work for their 81-year-old mother and decide they won’t be going home for Christmas, Aldrich writes, “…not one had understood how much less painful it is to be tired in your body than to be weary in your mind—how much less distressing it is to have an ache in your bones than to have a hurt in your heart.” Never fear, though—Aldrich always treats her readers to a happy ending.

             If I could, I’d send a copy to every blog reader. I like it that much.

The Day Christ Was Born by Jim Bishop. 

             “The road out of Bethany threw a tawny girdle around the hill they called the Mount of Olives and the little parties came up slowly out of the east leading asses with dainty dark feet toward the spendor of Jerusalem.”

            I’ve never been to the Holy Land, but with that opening and all the way to the end, I feel that I am seeing what Mary and Joseph saw as they journeyed toward Christmas. In addition, I begin to understand what Jerusalem meant (and means) to the Jewish people.

            Bishop’s Mary is a flesh-and-blood girl—not some other-worldly mythical figure I can’t relate to. In this book, Mary is faithful and aware of her heavenly Father’s care, but she’s also terrified and wondering. “God was everywhere. It gave Mary confidence to know that He was everywhere. She needed confidence. Mary was fifteen.”

            The book flap on my copy of this book says, “Bishop incorporates treasures of information … discovered by nineteen centuries of scholars in archaeology, linguistics and related disciplines, to create a tapestry woven from many threads of a gripping, ever-unfolding narrative that is biblically accurate yet filled with rich, dramatic, detail.”

            In plain language, Bishop’s account is the ultimate “you are there” experience (at least it is for me). He helps me see, hear, small, and feel what the most important event in all of human history might have been like for the real humans who lived it—Mary and Joseph, shepherds and Magi (in spite of the title, the story goes beyond that one day). Bishop provides the cultural context for the story in a way that helps me understand and appreciate “the players” far more than I ever have before. [Apparently the book is out of print, but abundant used copies are available online.]

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            May your holidays be bright, and I hope you give yourself the gift of quiet time and reading. 

What’s your favorite holiday reading?