Lent and Easter arrived early this year, and so this “liminal” in-between, threshold season came at a time of transition for us at Holy Family as well. The sequence between Christmas and Lent was compressed and, in some ways, seemed hurried. I was grateful for spiritual disciplines and restorative niches not necessarily dependent upon the liturgical calendar, as these can nurture and sustain us no matter what the lunar cycle (on which the Easter schedule depends) may tell us!*
Truth told however, I felt a bit disoriented myself, juggling a busy clinical practice, family and teaching commitments, and turning my attention to serving Holy Family as part-time, interim priest in charge. And so, when I arrived at Grandview Nursing facility in Jasper last Wednesday, it seemed as though only a few days ago we were there for the wonderful Christmas sing-along and gift distribution we offered last December.
And what a joyful day that was! Thanks to the hard work of the choir and outreach committee—and others like me who tagged along—we sang Christmas carols, provided cookies, punch, and assorted other goodies, and distributed gift bags to each resident. As I made my way down the halls to take gifts to those room-bound souls unable to sing with us in the cafeteria, I was so very grateful for the privilege of being among those representing Holy Family as the Body of Christ in the community. Some of the residents in those halls were asleep, and it gave me a grin to think that when they awoke, their gift bag would be waiting for them, just as if Santa had magically appeared while they slept.
I was also impressed by the degree of need I saw among some of the residents, especially those who have little or no contact with family. And in some cases, their needs are so basic—things I tend to take for granted. So, I was delighted to learn that we were enthusiastically invited to come back at Easter. On Wednesday I arrived a little early and had a few moments to talk with the Activities Director, who was so very pleased that we had returned. She apologized that the Christmas tree was still up in the cafeteria, now bereft of ornaments, gathering dust to one side of the room. “We’ve had a lot of turnover here,” she said, “and it just hasn’t been a priority…Easter seemed to come so early this year.” “I hear you, sister,” I responded, “…and I’m still wondering where the whole month of March went!”
“I tell you what,” I said, “we have 65 Easter baskets (well, actually lovely Easter “buckets”) to give out. Why don’t we put them on and around the tree and call it an ‘Easter Tree’.” And so, we did. Soon, the Christmas tree had become the Easter tree, adorned with buckets lovingly filled by Holy Family outreach members with a wonderful assortment of treats and Easter gifts. There were more beneath the tree, gifts abounding in a lovely incarnational moment of synchronicity and confluence…Christmas, Easter, and everything in between here, and now.
As Richard Rohr said in one of his recent meditations; “We all want resurrection in some form. Jesus’ resurrection is a potent, focused, and compelling statement about what God is still and forever doing with the universe and with humanity. Science strongly confirms this statement using its own terms: metamorphosis, condensation, evaporation, seasonal changes, and the life cycles of everything from butterflies to stars. The natural world is constantly dying and being reborn in different forms. God appears to be resurrecting everything all the time and everywhere. It is not something to “believe in” as much as it is something to observe and be taught by.”
Yes, and with Rohr, and Wendell Berry, who implores us to “practice resurrection,” I, too, choose to believe in Jesus’ resurrection, however we understand this, because as Rohr suggests, it “localizes the whole Mystery” in this material and earthly world and in our own bodies too—the only world we know and the world that God created and loves and in which God chose to incarnate. That’s why our time at Grandview last week was such a gift. It was an outward and visible embodiment of what Augustine said about the Eucharist…”Behold what you are…become what you receive.” Indeed. We become the Body of Christ by virtue of our participation in the Eucharist and we share that with the world. At Grandview last week we, too, were transformed by our willingness to show up, as the mystery of the Body of Christ, in community.
For the souls gathered together to sing, break bread, and share stories, Chronos (clock, calendar time) and Kairos (spirit time) became one. A Christmas tree, now bereft of ornaments and lights, became a glorious Easter tree. And for a moment, held in time, incarnation and resurrection were one. I looked into the eyes of my fellow parishioners, and I saw reflected in them the gratitude of those whom we served. It was a moment of grace, hospitality, and mystery. As Mary Oliver said:
Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous
to be understood.
How grass can be nourishing in the
mouths of the lambs.
How rivers and stones are forever
in allegiance with gravity
while we ourselves dream of rising.
How two hands touch and the bonds
will never be broken.
How people come, from delight or the
scars of damage,
to the comfort of a poem.
Let me keep my distance, always, from those
who think they have the answers.
Let me keep company always with those who say
“Look!” and laugh in astonishment,and bow their heads.
I’ll catch you later on down the trail, and I hope to see you at church!
Bill+
*The simple standard definition of Easter is that it is the first Sunday after the full Moon that occurs on or after the spring equinox. If the full Moon falls on a Sunday then Easter is the next Sunday.
