The central miracle of Christianity gives some folks the hives. |
It
is Easter, the holiest day of the year for traditional
Christians, celebrating the resurrection
of Jesus, the conformation of him as the Christ, and the promise of eternal life for
those who believe. It’s powerful
stuff that brings comfort and hope to millions.
It
also gives some folks the willies, the hives, or both. And a lot of
those folks end up in Unitarian
Universalist congregations. That’s
gotta make it tough for our preachers—ahem
ministers since we tend to cringe at the sound of that old fashion word and all it connotes. We are non-creedal
and pride ourselves on being open and accepting to a wide variety of
spiritual beliefs and practices united by covenant in communities that pledge
mutual respect and support in
the quest for meaning. But on Easter, the stresses sometimes show.
There
are congregations where half the members
stay home lest they endure the obligatory “annual Christian” sermon or
even in some congregations sacramental
communion. In the hay day of humanists in the 50’s and 60’s when they dominated many congregations, Easter was even the occasion of more
of a debunking lecture than a sermon. You don’t see that so much anymore both
because the humanists, who still make up the largest philosophic segment of UU
membership, have lost a little of that particular chip on the shoulder, and because of a general rise in spirituality
in our communities including various stripes of theism and pantheism.
That
includes self-identified Christians
and many others who identify themselves as “followers of the religion of Jesus not about Jesus,” meaning the rabbi of the Sermon on the Mount, and not necessarily who may have rolled the stone away to unseal his own tomb.
Since
the World Parliament of Religions
during the World Columbian Exposition in
Chicago in 1893 Unitarians and Universalists
have become ever more aware of non-Abramic and traditional world religions.
Seeking and finding the underlying,
uniting universal principles among them
has become our hobby horse. Among the probably not terribly surprising discoveries is the idea that spiritual practice as expressed in ritual is closely linked to the repeating cycles of the seasons.
Many
of our Easter services make this a central
theme. It is in our wheel house. It is sometimes done with embarrassing shallowness as a pared down metaphor that the minister
can’t quite get his or her heart into.
But in the right hands powerful
truths are explored and unexpected depths plumbed.
Stripped down some sermons
may follow these lines—
Easter’s date is tied to a Jewish calendar based on the cycles
of the moon. Thus Easter’s date slowly
changes relative to our current solar-based
Gregorian calendar and slowly creeps
forward such that it would ultimately slip
out of spring entirely—except that the “reset” from the Julian to
Gregorian solar calendars in the 18th
Century keeps the holiday in the spring.
Easter
is tied to the Jewish calendar because Jesus and his disciples chose to travel to Jerusalem
to observe Passover. Jesus
and his disciples were religious Jews
and the Last Supper was a Seder.
Passover
celebrates the Moses-led miracle
that saved the tribes of Abraham
from bondage in Egypt—a virtual rebirth as a people and nation. For centuries the Yahweh-worshiping tribes who came to be known as Jews commemorated
that miracle in lambing season,
perhaps because it was blood of
sacrificed lambs that was smeared on
Jewish lintels that signaled to the Angel to “pass-over” Jewish homes—when
the eldest sons from all other
Egyptian homes were killed—the
final catastrophe that convinced Pharaoh at last to free his slaves.
Whether
or not Passover as a historic event that
actually fell in the spring, the commemoration
is firmly placed in that season of Rebirth.
This
Easter spring will still seems new, the annual
explosion of new life just getting under way. And in a way that is
good. The crocuses and daffodils remind us that in some ways
the central Christian story—the death,
resurrection, and ascension into heaven of
Jesus—commemorates also the resurrection
of nature we see around us every spring.
Celebrating
the annual rebirth of nature cuts across
and unites huge sectors of all cultures and religions.
While
the Jews were celebrating Passover, their cousin
tribes who worshiped Baal and
the ancient fertility goddess Astarte
(who some paleontologists find represented in the tiny pregnant female torsos
found in Paleolithic sites) also
held rituals that celebrated the season. The Seleucid Greeks who had once conquered Judea, as well as those Romans
who occupied the country in the time of Jesus, both had spring festivals associated with fertility goddesses.
In northern Europe
long before Christianity was born, tribes celebrated the return of spring with
a grand festival to commemorate their goddess of fertility and springtime.
Among the Anglo-Saxons in Britain and possibly Germanic tribes in Europe, that goddess was named Ēostre or Ostara.
Like many
traditional gods and goddesses associated with nature, Ēostre was often
represented by the rabbit, that most
fertile and prolific of all warm-blooded creatures. But some scholars believe that identification
may have been grafted onto almost
forgotten festivals by 19th Century
neo-pagans.
During the 2nd Century of the Christian era, when missionaries found that the rebirth
holiday of those Ēostre-celebrating tribes coincided with the Christian
observance of the resurrection of Christ, what could be more fitting than to join these two together into one holy day.
Today our spring ceremony mostly still celebrates an Easter with chocolate bunnies and eggs side by side with a Risen-is-Christ Easter observance—joining
together several traditions, like many other Christian customs do, like the Yule log, hanging of greens, and
erection of an evergreen tree alongside
the Crèche at Christmas time.
One way or another,
Passover, Ēostre, and Easter, all celebrate rebirth and renewal.
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