The Last Day

Alas, I am aware that I am not Marcus Borg, but in my small way I try to be like him.

A little.

Marcus (as I like to call him) recently wrote a book with John Dominic Crossan called The Last Week, a detailed account of Jesus’ last week before the crucifixion. (It’s very good, by the way.)

In Marcus’ honor this blog entry is entitled The Last Day, and it is not about Jesus at all . . . but rather about my vacation.

(I said I tried to be like Marcus Borg in a small way. Today it seems that that miniscule way is that we both have recently written something with the words “the” and “last” in the title.)

It’s just that I hate the last day of vacation; it’s sort of like that feeling you get after the very last Christmas present has been opened and your Mom is making you take out the garbage.

Such a let-down.

Time for sad and wistful music, reflections of a wonderful week at the lake and a deep sigh gearing up to go back to work.

Tomorrow.

So, in this Borgianesque composition and in honor of the last day (of vacation), I’d like to announce that I am going to crank up my Jazz and Cocktails CD . . . and get to work on tomorrow’s sermon.

And while I am not absolutely positive, I think this is something Marcus Borg would definitely do.