Hope ... Promise ... Renewal

Easter is, I believe, my favourite time of year ... the hope and promise of new life ... tolerance and mercy ... renewal of life against all odds.

The symbolism and the similarities between the passion and resurrection of Christ, and the resurrection of ‘life’ after a long, inward winter season – are endless. And now that we have a young child in the house, traditions continue to get dusted off, new traditions are designed and nurtured, and my daughter continues to collect memories for the ‘journal of life’ that grows in her heart.

When I was a teen, I often spent Passover with my best friend. I was brought up Christian and she was brought up Jewish. Our blend of religions, just like the seamless blend of our friendship, just seemed to work. At the Passover table I never ceased to marvel at the tradition and loveliness of the Passover meal and celebration. I was always particularly awestruck by the ‘ritual’ that held this family together. True to its history, celebrating Passover was entirely inclusive of my friend’s family, and any guests who happen to be blessed with a seat at the table. It was lovely. It was meaningful. It was ancient. And I am so grateful that I am able to hold on to those memories. Because the stories of Passover and Easter are so rich with history and meaning and ‘hope’ for the days ahead.

At this time of year, certainly in climates such as the UK, we are just beginning to rise from a long, dark, cold winter, both in reality, and metaphorically. It isn’t until the first whiffs of Spring flutter past our noses and gently tickle our senses that we realize just how much there is to look forward to – not just in Spring, but throughout the rest of the year. I suppose this awakening shares much with the mood and grief that people felt during those days leading up to Christ’s death. It is thought that, back in Christ’s time, the crucifixion was followed by a great tempest, the skies darkened, the winds howled, the heavens seemed to open. For some, it terrified them. For others, it was a ‘knowing’ sign.

So on this very rainy Easter weekend, while it would superficially be nice if we didn’t have to tread through mud, and if we could don our finest Spring clothes instead of our wellies and waterproofs and umbrellas ... our stormy weather seems to deepen the meaning of Easter in my heart. It certainly was a time of immense grieving when Christ was crucified. Imagine the tumultuous feelings that spread through the land. Even those in support of his death must have felt some sort of angst, if not the stress of having fought to get him killed. And perhaps the satisfaction of his death wasn’t as grand as they may have hoped. Revenge often seems to be over-rated.

And then there were those who had a deeper feeling in their hearts – perhaps a ‘knowing’. Even so, the injustice of a wrongful killing must have felt too much to bear at times.

This time of year my thoughts often turn to strife all around the globe. Perhaps it's the general 'awakening' that I experience with the arrival of Spring. My senses, all of them, heighten. Although Spring brings with it a true 'joy', I also tend to feel a deep grieving for people, places, things I don't even know. Perhaps those entangled in war zones. Perhaps those trapped in their own 'hell'. This time of year I tend to grieve for anything and everything that attempts to erode our spirits, over and over.

The Crucifixion of Christ may have happened thousands of years ago, but the depth of that moment in time lingers. Right here. Right now. And the story of Easter begins with such tragedy, yet it somehow manages to also hold such ‘hope’. Promise. Renewal. An assurance that amidst all the drama and the turmoil and the sadness and the grieving --- ‘hope’ springs eternal. And new life never fails to push through adversity. And embrace us.

So, tomorrow is the first Sunday that follows the full moon that followed the Spring Equinox on March 21.

It is Easter Sunday.

While the ‘Easter Bunny’ may seem an unlikely partner with the intensity of the crucifixion of Christ, the two are actually quite complementary, in my view. Rabbits are extremely lovely symbols of fertility and the ongoing quest to procreate. And nests are beautiful symbols of ‘home’ and ‘family’ and ‘the promise of new life’.

So, as we celebrate Easter, and celebrate the triumph of light over dark, we must also carry with us the message that although tomorrow holds great uncertainty, we must take a moment to be still in order to hear the exquisite songs that birds begin singing - before the storm has ended.
For they know with absolute certainty that clouds don’t banish the sun. They only form a temporary cover.

And then ... the JOY appears!

Happy Easter! xxx