During the pandemic, most of my friends longed more than anything to see their children and grandchildren again. I have no doubt that the vast majority of 67-year old women have photographs of family on their dressers and mantlepieces.
My dresser is adorned with photos of English cathedrals (interiors and exteriors, and Gloucester's matchless cloister walk). I also have, propped up, greeting cards of forests, birds, full moons, and hearts. I guess that pretty much says it all...these are my "children".
So in this year when the arc of my journey has taken me further from Christianity than ever, it's a very lonely, very empty Holy Week. The imprint of years of Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter services (and all the glorious music) simply doesn't go away. It is there forever. Yet I just cannot resonate with the battle imagery (life's "victory" over death), the money imagery (my life being "redeemed"), or any sense of joy specifically relating to Easter. I know that life is eternal -- I don't need any specific traditions or events to illustrate that.
If I need proof of life's lasting quality, all I need is to look at the glorious pink/orange moonrises over Lake Superior, the deer running down the city streets, the rapidly melting snow and the trickling sound of waters going down the storm drain. All I have to do is see the tiniest iota of green emerging from one of the snowiest winters on record, or to hear the first morning birdsong of spring, as I did this morning. I have no plans to go to church, eat a big Easter meal, listen to the "Hallelujah Chorus", or watch TV Easter fare. Except (I confess) for having bought some jelly beans (called "jelly bird eggs" at this time of year), I haven't purchased any of the stock plastic eggs or baskets or stuffed bunnies. I may walk down to the lake in the suddenly warm air -- and I will just try to keep breathing. This is another transition, another step in the journey, and as old certainties (or even formerly enjoyable traditions) fall away, I need to stay strong. May this weekend be, for you too, whatever is learning- and beauty-filled. If there is emptiness, may things you love trickle in.
