Today is Earth Day! And the Episcopal Church is celebrating creation in Eastertide. Let us be mindful Christians and take the best care we can of the Creator's marvelous gift to us so that all God's children now and in the future can enjoy the sustenance it provides through the abundance of Divine Love.

Butterflies

Today is Yom HaShoah, the day we remember the victims of the Holocaust. Last year I went to the JEA - Savannah's Jewish Center - for an evening of memories and reflections and was greatly moved. Yesterday I ushered at a memorial concert at the same center. The auditorium was festooned with cut out, vibrantly colored paper butterflies intended to bring to mind Pavel Friedman’s poem, The Butterfly. Again I was greatly moved. Then on Sunday as I watched The Courageous Heart of Irene Sendler, I reflected not only on those who perished but on those who survived and on those who took great risks to help them. Then I thought of those today who through being born in the “wrong” family, the “wrong” faith, the “wrong” gender are persecuted even unto death. And I ask myself, what risks am I taking for them?

Walking in the Garden

Yesterday – Good Friday –my dog, Ben, and I took a long walk through beautiful Bonaventure Cemetery. As we both tired slightly, our exercise turned into a lovely afternoon amble, allowing me time to look at names and dates carved on headstones (Ben still preferred the bushes and trees!). Headstone is a misnomer in several cases, as many family plots display quite elaborate monuments, perhaps memorializing an essence of the deceased for the descendents.

As I wandered around the Jewish section, admiring the beauty of the Hebrew engraved headstones, I noticed several crypts. It brought to mind the Triduum, the Three Holy Days from Maundy Thursday to Easter Sunday. First, I thought of Joseph of Arimathea and his gift of the tomb in which to bury Jesus. He took quite a risk, after all he was a member of the Sanhedrin and this wasn’t likely to advance his political career. Scripture doesn’t tell us what happened to him, although according to the Gospel of Nicodemus, he did spend some time in prison for this. It also brought to mind how often I play it safe when it comes to my faith.

Next, I thought about that part of the creed that states that Christ descended into hell – Holy Saturday, for me is the worst day in the Christian calendar, one usually forgotten, masked by preparation for Easter Sunday. Jews believe that before they can enter Gan Eden (aka, Heaven) where they’ll enjoy the “rays of the Divine Presence” they must first endure a painful, spiritual cleansing, a process known as Gehinom (aka, Hell). So the Light has left the world –symbolized by removing the sanctuary light from the church on Maunday Thursday. Jesus is in Hell, atoning for the sins of humankind, continuing to suffer even after crucifixion. But we are not left in the Dark for long. Thank heaven for Easter!

I looked at each of the crypts. The one thing they had in common was that their doors were closed and locked. Where was the symbol of the rolled away stone, the empty tomb? The Light returns, the darkness of my soul – my tomb – has been redeemed through an incredible and totally unselfish gift of Divine Love. Wow!

Passion

Let's be honest, when we're told that someone is passionate about something or someone, we think of them having an ardent affection for them. But passion isn't always affectionate; it can be just the opposite, in fact. One can just as easily have a passion for overindulgence (not me, of course!). Passion is really the intense emotion we have for someone or something. So I was surprised to learn that the derivation of the word is the Latin pati, to suffer, from which we also have the word patient. Perhaps it makes more sense when we consider the Passion of Christ, for here we certainly witness the suffering of Jesus and his patient endurance. Henri Nouwen writes that from the moment Jesus was arrested, his active ministry changed to that of being acted upon by external agents or forces, which is actually the third definition of the word, passion, according to Merriam Webster.

Rituals

The thing about rituals is that they are, by nature, repetitive. Repeating rituals means that we become familiar with them; and we all know what familiarity breeds! But rituals do have a purpose. They recall our history. I think there's truth in the saying, we can't know where we're going until we know where we've come from. So it's important to learn why we keep these rituals in order to grow into the faith. After 2000 years, the rituals can seem somewhat archaic and the reason for keeping them can be lost in the dust of centuries. Maybe some of them should be given a decent burial but there are many that still hold poignant meaning for defining who we are as a community of faith. In a way it's stylized storytelling - and who doesn't love a good story?