Today is Easter Sunday, which always meant something when I was growing up. Easter baskets, church service, a big mid-day meal of lamb or ham; the coda to Christmas, another religious holiday that combined the commercial with the holy. I loved it, and not just for the chocolate eggs and bunnies, but because the whole story of the death and resurrection of Christ seemed so mystical to me – like a supernatural thriller that continues to enthrall long after you know how it’s going to turn out.
Today, I find myself missing my family and our old Easter traditions, such as they were. I think some of this feeling is simply the result of aging; that occasional sense of melancholy that sneaks up on you every now and then, and that I can’t help but believe is common to everyone. And part of it is just a side-effect of the stresses of this particular place and time… an ailing economy, a terrible job market, a world in peril. Those happy and colorful little Easter baskets, combined with the story of resurrection and redemption, were a great distraction way back when from whatever might have been ailing us or the world.
In the long years since I last woke up to an Easter basket by my bedside, my religion has turned to spirituality, and my church has morphed from a physical building to nature. Although I thought about attending a church service this morning, I decided instead to hit my favorite trail – the “Dish”, a beautiful hilly walk adjacent to the Stanford campus. It’s out in nature, away from the structure and iconography of the church, that I come closest to feeling the presence of God.
Whether you believe that Christ was the son of God, or that he was one of several (or many?) great prophets—or even if you don’t believe in him at all—the story of his death and resurrection is a powerful one, and maybe even a little analogous to what most people I know (certainly me) are going through right now. Almost everyone I know is struggling financially and/or experiencing some kind of grief at work or at home. No one I know has been left untouched by the world’s current struggles, and after months of strife, most of us still see no end in sight.
This morning it occurred to me that maybe we’re all experiencing a metaphorical crucifixion – the loss of a way of life… the loss of a sense of stability… the loss of job opportunities… the list goes on. While none of these losses are comparable to Jesus’ crucifixion, they are painful to endure nonetheless. I can only hope that on the other side of this difficult period of time is some sort of resurrection, a way to rise from the death of the way things used to be, to the way they will be. Perhaps this difficult time in the world is our era’s great rebalancing… one in which financial institutions and people will have learned to be more fiscally responsible and caring, more energy conscious, more open minded to other cultures and ways of life.
Looking out over the green hills of Silicon Valley today, I did feel hopeful for our collective resurrection; not just for a return to how things were when they were at their best, but for the start of something brand new and full of possibility.
Today, I find myself missing my family and our old Easter traditions, such as they were. I think some of this feeling is simply the result of aging; that occasional sense of melancholy that sneaks up on you every now and then, and that I can’t help but believe is common to everyone. And part of it is just a side-effect of the stresses of this particular place and time… an ailing economy, a terrible job market, a world in peril. Those happy and colorful little Easter baskets, combined with the story of resurrection and redemption, were a great distraction way back when from whatever might have been ailing us or the world.
In the long years since I last woke up to an Easter basket by my bedside, my religion has turned to spirituality, and my church has morphed from a physical building to nature. Although I thought about attending a church service this morning, I decided instead to hit my favorite trail – the “Dish”, a beautiful hilly walk adjacent to the Stanford campus. It’s out in nature, away from the structure and iconography of the church, that I come closest to feeling the presence of God.
Whether you believe that Christ was the son of God, or that he was one of several (or many?) great prophets—or even if you don’t believe in him at all—the story of his death and resurrection is a powerful one, and maybe even a little analogous to what most people I know (certainly me) are going through right now. Almost everyone I know is struggling financially and/or experiencing some kind of grief at work or at home. No one I know has been left untouched by the world’s current struggles, and after months of strife, most of us still see no end in sight.
This morning it occurred to me that maybe we’re all experiencing a metaphorical crucifixion – the loss of a way of life… the loss of a sense of stability… the loss of job opportunities… the list goes on. While none of these losses are comparable to Jesus’ crucifixion, they are painful to endure nonetheless. I can only hope that on the other side of this difficult period of time is some sort of resurrection, a way to rise from the death of the way things used to be, to the way they will be. Perhaps this difficult time in the world is our era’s great rebalancing… one in which financial institutions and people will have learned to be more fiscally responsible and caring, more energy conscious, more open minded to other cultures and ways of life.
Looking out over the green hills of Silicon Valley today, I did feel hopeful for our collective resurrection; not just for a return to how things were when they were at their best, but for the start of something brand new and full of possibility.
I think the poppies and lupine that dotted the hillsides of the Dish are my replacement for peeps and chocolate bunnies, and that nature is my new Easter tradition.
