On Death and Rebirth in Daily Life

Happy Easter!

Easter and the Big Things

         Easter is a moveable feast. It does not occur on the same day from year to year (like Christmas on December 25th), because there is what the kids would call an algorithm for determining when Easter occurs. It is on the first Sunday after the first full moon after the spring equinox. (Count back 40 days and you have Ash Wednesday, which is also a moveable feast.)

         For much of the world, the forementioned Christmas is the big Christian feastday. It embodies Profound Spiritual Message #1 upon which Christianity depends – “God so loved the world that He gave His only Son” and so on. For many people, it is impossible to believe God gives a damn about us or lifts a finger to help. But the Christmas story is about God inserting Himself into human history. Incarnation: in the flesh.

         But Profound Spiritual Message #2 is even more important: A person who believes and follows God’s path, even unto death, will find new and eternal life. This is the faith of Jesus on the Cross, as He journeys from “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” to “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” And, three days later, his faith triumphs over death in his Resurrection. That’s why Easter is so important: it’s about keeping faith in the darkest times of our own lives.

         Death and rebirth are at the heart of Easter, and thus at the heart of Christianity. “If Christ has not been raised, then our preaching is in vain, your faith also is in vain.” It should be no surprise that Easter is celebrated in the spring, when existence springs back to life after the long cold winter.

         The notion of new life springing forth from death was not new or unfamiliar to the people of the Levant in Jesus’ time. The mythological theme of the dying-and-resurrected deity was prominent in the Middle East and Egypt, the wellheads from which Judaism and, by extension, Christianity sprung.

Easter and the Little Things

         I am a procrastinator by nature. Anything worth doing today is worth putting off until tomorrow: a difficult work assignment, an apology to a wronged friend, a household chore or starting a diet. These are not the soul-crushing dilemmas that Russian novels and American soap operas are made of, but still I manage to procrastinate.  

         So today I celebrate the little moments of renewal in my life, when I power through my hesitancy and fear and move forward – the rekindling of an old friendship, making progress on a long- and often-delayed project, a new burst of inspiration while staring at a keyboard. Tomorrow, or next week, I will be back in a rut but today I am risen.

A Song for Easter

The most beautiful Easter song I know was written 50-some years ago by two monks named Jon Balistreri and Denny Shaughnessy. Unfortunately, no recorded version of it survives, and the universe of people who even know, much less can play, the song is shrinking. Here is the lovely poetry of the words.

Glorious Man, by Jon Balistreri and Denny Shaughnessy

The men of the Law had all agreed that a single man should die

As a sign to the nation, so they hung Him very high

         Who was that Glorious Man?

         We thought He was dead, never thought He would come again

         But isn’t that what He said?

         Who was that Glorious Man? 

The soldier was sleeping near the stone as the sun rose o’er the hill

And a bird sang a morning song, and the air was very still. 

         Who was that Glorious Man?

         We thought He was dead, never thought He would come again

         But isn’t that what He said?

         Who was that Glorious Man? 

No power could hold Him anymore as the morning light broke through.

It was a joy to Him, and for us the joy is true. 

         Who was that Glorious Man?

         We thought He was dead, never thought He would come again

         But isn’t that what He said?

         Who was that Glorious Man?  

Two men walked out in the light of morn’, met Another on their way.

They saw the light in His face at the supper they shared that day. 

         Who was that Glorious Man?

         We thought He was dead, never thought He would come again

         But isn’t that what He said?

         Who was that Glorious Man? 

No power could hold Him anymore.