Easter Sunday

Our Monarch After First Flight ~ Photo by Steve Magin

There is something new that is happening! There is a light that has broken through the darkness. The new dawn and new day of Easter bring good news. It has been affirmed that our troubles, worries and fears have been overcome with love. Loneliness and sadness are banished. There is something more than death. Life has been revitalized. We can no longer doubt the truth of our identities. Each of us is the beloved child of God.

We walked through gardens yesterday in Memphis that celebrate spring with a display of more than 20,000 tulips. The soil, mild winters and hot summers of the south do not allow the bulbs to live from year to year. People have gone to great lengths and made tremendous sacrifice to dig and plant these brilliant bulbs that are perennial in the north. They are just going to rot and die. Why would they bother when there are so many other blooming plants that are native to the area? They do it to provide beauty and happiness in greater measure than it could have been experienced otherwise. Their visitors, most of whom are complete strangers to them, will find the brilliant greeting of glorious flowers in a land that does not support them. What a gift!

Why would God go to all of the trouble to give us Easter in an empty tomb? Perhaps it is because we are regarded that deeply. Perhaps it was to demonstrate that there is nothing more important than our relationship with Him. It is even more. It is an eternal love letter for one and for all that has been signed, sealed and delivered. What a gift! What an amazing day!

The Easter Vigil

Penn Family Memorial at North Lawn Cemetery, Utica, Ohio

The morose truth that we learn to forget is that death is our common experience.  This forgetting is a kind of saving grace in our day to day life. But death is at the core of our being.  It is exposed at extreme intervals and faced when someone we love is taken from us.  The grief is not only overwhelming but contains a kind of personal expectation.

I remember my father's funeral.  The family was gathered in the little room adjacent to the casket and just out of sight from the other mourners.  It was quiet as we waited for the service to begin.  One of my aunts turned to her sister and whispered "I wonder who will be next."  The words, though quiet, echoed in my heart.  What an ominous thought!  She was referring to herself, her sisters and brother...my dear aunts and uncle.  Two had passed before my Dad.  Five remained.  Someone would be next.  One day they would all be gone.  And of course, it came to pass. The emptiness that follows death seems unbearable.  We have been left alone and abandoned.  The time that follows the ceremonies and burial are dark.  We are numbed and seem to be just going through the motions.  There is little consolation.

These are the experiences of Holy Thursday, Good Friday and the Easter Vigil.  The church enters into death.  We stop our rush to the future and sit in collective sorrow.  We can the imagine the grief, fear and hopelessness of Jesus' family, friends and followers.  We can do this because we too have experienced the death of a loved one.  No one is spared.

It is, however, at the darkest hour on Holy Saturday that the unexpected happens and continues to happen.

Good Friday

The observance of Good Friday allows people to explore the depths of their own emptiness. We have the opportunity to understand that within our full and busy lives is the heart of a child who has been misunderstood. We find the wounds of loneliness, abandonment, insecurity, frustration, grief and agony that we avoid touching at all costs. This kind of suffering is universal to all, but unique unto each individual. How can going to this sad place serve any purpose? Why should we stop for a moment to savor the ugly? The reason is to fully accept, recognize and grasp our own humanity.

It is only through an acceptance of our own suffering that we can become truly useful to others. We have been broken in order that we might be given to others. I am reminded of the lyrics of “The Rose” performed by Bette Midler:

It's the heart afraid of breaking

that never learns to dance.

It's the dream afraid of waking

that never takes the chance.

It's the one who won't be taken,

who cannot seem to give,

and the soul afraid of dying

that never learns to live.

These acts of reflection and acceptance lead to reconciliation. Reconciliation leads to meaningful service to others. That is what makes Good Friday good.

Holy Thursday and Brokenness

The Savior of Zvenigorod

The Savior of Zvenigorod, an icon painted by Andrei Rublev sometime in the early fifteenth century, has been a great source of meditation for people over the centuries.  Henri Nouwen, the catholic scholar, priest, activist and author, wrote about it in his book "Behold the Beauty of the Lord" about twenty years ago.  He was moved by the depiction of Jesus because of his obvious brokenness and compassion. For Nouwen the facial expression became a profound spiritual experience.  The Saviour does not look severe, he doesn't judge, but sees everything.  Christ’s eyes seem to be directed at him.  He concludes that Christ’s tender and loving gaze penetrates the brokenness of humanity.

The icon is a powerful image for me as well.  Those eyes seem to be looking at that part in me which denies, and through that denial, betrays.  They look at me as they must have done with Peter on the night of his trial.  Three times he strongly declares that he does not know Jesus and is certainly not a follower.  The rooster crows and Peter looks over to see Jesus looking at him with those forgiving eyes.  Again and again I am forgiven.  Again and again I repeat my mistakes.  There is no judgement.  Only love and compassion.  Jesus suffers with me in solidarity.  Through this my weakness becomes my strength.  My brokenness becomes my path to healing and hope.

It is sometimes difficult to deal with that which has been broken. The proud, strong and invincible youth that we once were has stumbled. The idealism and dream that was clearly defined in our character and mind has dimmed or altered. Our hearts have been wrenched by losses and disappointments. There is no way to avoid these occasions of brokenness. Living life from day to day necessitates their occurrence.

Nouwen says "We are called to claim our unique brokenness, just as we have to claim our unique chosenness and our unique blessedness."  This should give us peace, hope and direction. Our brokenness is distinctive to each of us. It is through these experiences that we receive bread for the journey. We are like the reed which must be dried, hollowed out and carved in order to become a flute. Our music is played only through our brokenness. The one facet of our being that others can clearly relate to is that which has caused us pain. The one light that shines for others is our subsequent ability to live through it, make it to the other side, survive and then to thrive. Our brokenness can provide the lamp of hope for others. The healing eyes of The Savior of Zvenigorod urge us on.

Sacrifice

Boys Image Reflected in The VietNam Memorial

Self sacrifice is a miracle in action. There are times when our world seems to be driven by greed and selfishness. One of the most powerful things to experience is a personal observation or the story of one who freely gives for the sake of others. Such deeds actually are not in short supply. One such account was recently transmitted by National Public Radio.

Joe, a school custodian, was an Army Ranger during the first Gulf War. He rushed in to save a friend who was hit by a mortar and stepped on a concussive charge which resulted in several serious injuries that ended Joe’s Army career. His friend had been killed before Joe could even get to him.

As a result of his head injury, Joe also lost his fiancée, his excellent social skills, and the life he assumed he would live. Now he works nights, emptying the school garbage and trimming the shrubbery every now and then while his dog waits in the car. When asked if he wishes things were different, Joe still says, “Yeah, I wish I could have saved Brian. I would have gladly died for him.”

Self-sacrifice is the act of deliberately following a course of action that has a high risk or certainty of suffering. It often entails personal loss or death which could otherwise be avoided in order to achieve a benefit for others. It is a powerful theme that says “There is something I want more than life itself. There is something more important.” I am reminded of the Oskar Schindler story.

The movie Schindler’s List told us about the life and times of Oskar Schindler. He was a very wealthy socialite and businessman in Germany prior to World War II. The plight of Jewish victims of the Nazis compelled him to change. He continually risked his life to protect and save his Jewish workers. He desperately spent every penny he had bribing and paying off the Nazis to get food and better treatment for them. Finally, more than 1200 people were saved. When asked why he made the sacrifice that he did, Schindler replied, “I just couldn't stand by and see people destroyed. I did what I could, what I had to do, what my conscience told me I must do. That's all there is to it. Really, nothing more." Schindler never recovered financially but was mourned on four continents when he died. He is revered as a beloved hero to this day.

Ralph Waldo Emerson said “Sacrifice is the miracle that makes great things possible.” We are sanctifying our actions when we make sacrifices. The drive to make a personal difference, whether by living a life of service or rising to the occasion when it becomes clear that someone must, is the essence of self-sacrifice. We trade the uncertainty of options for the certainty of gloom when we surrender to despair. Life isn't filled only with difficulty and pain. It is also filled with people whose dignity and spirit rise above their circumstances. There are situations when great sacrifice or love and wisdom turn a problem into an opportunity and strength. If we look at what has happened in our own lives and in those of others, we have ample reason to hope. This hope can change the world.

Living With Passion

  Monarch Preparing for First Flight ~ Photo by Steve Magin

Life should be lived passionately. The promises of Passover and Easter are ones of opportunity and second chances. It is beginning again just when we thought it was almost over. Enthusiasm should accompany this gift without a doubt but passion is the key element of renewal. It is easy to confuse passionate living with recklessness. The two are not compatible. Lust, power, greed and irresponsibility are symptoms of selfishness. Compassion, humility, generosity and dependability are the touchstones of action which generate from a spiritual and emotional wellspring of passion. It means being true to our principles and doing the right thing. It means putting family, friends and community first. It means following our dreams and bliss rather than money and prestige.

A friend of mine was a great businessman. He spent his hours developing a large concern that served hotels and casinos in the south. His successes were obvious. They were evidenced in a very comfortable lifestyle.  There was plenty of stress and many headaches as well. His time away from work was limited.  Then came Hurricane Katrina. Everything was blown or washed away. They lost their home, their employees were devastated, and the business was practically ruined. His despair was to be expected but his response was probably not. He and his wife have dedicated their lives to a new way of appreciation. They spend quality time with each other. They no longer collect meaningless possessions. They share their bounty of love and treasure with others. A new home was eventually purchased. The business was sold. Each day is now lived to the fullest. They are among the happiest people I know.

It does not necessarily take tragedy to redefine our lives. Often, however, it is that which seems to be an ending that awakens us to a new dawn. I have been including photographs of the transition and metamorphosis of a caterpillar to a monarch butterfly for the past several weeks. The metaphor is obvious. Our defined lives are never really defined until we turn them over to a power greater than ourselves. We wake up to find that we have changed and that flight is possible when it seemed we were destined to crawl. Be passionate with the gift. Live, live, live! Life is a banquet!

Life Is Good

There is a new life that presents itself each spring. Something magnificent, marvelous, extraordinary and sensational is going to happen. Like the sometimes slow and subtle emergence of spring, however, we often have to look for the little signs. There might just be a moment or there might be an explosion of happiness but a miracle will unfold if we are only willing to bear witness. The suffering and death that is experienced in winter have given way to new life. We cannot deny this reality.

There is always something hidden that holds the promise that is stronger than any despair or suffering that we have experienced. Our being open to possibilities rather than confining ourselves to limitations is a key to finding an end to desolation. We can begin to face the reality that life is made up of seasons. There is often great courage required in going through distress and difficulties. It is, however, going through them that allows us to survive and to find new hope. We will discover that where we had least expected there is light and a green shoot or blossom. We will develop a trust that God’s love is stronger than anything that we might encounter. His loving presence can be found in the midst of jealousy, resentment, revenge hatred and even death itself. It is this trust that allows us to carry on with a spirit of optimism and appreciation.

Spring is here.  Passover and Easter are coming!  Life Is Good!