SUMMER
2001 George A. Crispin
Woodbury MMEaster is not my favorite holiday. Christmas is. Yet it comes at that uplifting time of the year when it is needed most, the end of the gray days of February and the winds of March. First come the hyacinths, then the tulips, the air becomes warmer, the days sunnier. Easter is a nice time of the year.
But Easter presents me with problems. It is a celebration throughout Christendom of the crucifixion and bodily resurrection of Jesus Christ. I do not think I really believe in the bodily resurrection of Jesus, and the agonizing torture of a man nailed to a cross makes me shudder with horror. It leaves me sad and uninspired. The gospel accounts differ with regard to the details surrounding that event. They differ even as to the day it occurred. Some thirty years passed before the gospels were written. Eyewitnesses had died off. Eyewitness accounts tend to be unreliable anyway. That someone two thousand years ago rose bodily from the dead seems an impossibility to prove. Then what do we make of Easter? Surely the Easter Bunny is not enough.
This Easter was a gift. We all have days when everything goes wrong. This was, for me, a day when everything went right. The morning was filled with a radiant sunshine that illuminated my front yard and the world around it. Rays of yellow light struck the roof pitch and danced there as though filled with joy. It was one of those rare occasions when I had actually gotten ahead of myself by getting everything I needed for the day when it was needed a day ahead of time.
We were all to have a communal breakfast at the Meetinghouse. I was to cook. As members and attendees entered they were greeted with the smell of omelet and pancakes cooking in our kitchen. One by one they came, bearing some addition to the culinary adventure we were about to have. Stealthily the Easter eggs were hidden on the lawn in the, as yet, unmowed grass. Happy children ate hurriedly in anticipation of the hunt. Then the hunt. The children were lined up and sorted according to age. At the signal off they went to hunt for eggs in their designated areas, easy-to-find areas for the little ones, not-so-easy-to-find for the older children. Squeals were heard everywhere with excitement. It was a happy morning, filled with sunshine, the spell of brewing coffee, singing birds, good food, happy children, joyful greetings, engaging conversation, all alive with the vigor of life.
Our Meeting, like most, has not always been a happy place. Too often, in spite of our hoped for Quaker approach to life, petty squabbles and bickering, and sometimes real animosity, prevail, and gossip travels a dark circle infecting what it touches. But on this morning the dark appetites and baser possibilities were swept aside, and the sunshine that touched the morning outside seemed to shine within as well. Modern man struggles for a religious belief of meaning that can direct his life. What meaning in the light of these modern times can resurrection have? Perhaps the greatest miracle is that the human soul can rise above the Lesser Self and at any time start anew. What is resurrection?
Forgiveness. Putting aside old antagonisms and allowing the Higher Self to rise to unforeseen heights. Life does not have to go on as it was; life can be lived anew. Forgiveness can be the new resurrection.
This year, life in our Meeting has been different since Easter. New and different people have been attending Meeting for Worship. People seem to cooperate more and are more tolerant. Perhaps this new spirit is the resurrection for our times.
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Last modified:
Wednesday, February 18, 2004 at 08:19 AM
