The modern English term Easter developed from the Old English word Ēastre or Ēostre (Old English pronunciation: [ˈæːɑstre, ˈeːostre]), which itself developed prior to 899, originally referring to the name of the Anglo-Saxon goddess Ēostre. -Wikipedia
And then one day, a descendent of the Welsh and Scottish pagans who had been subdued by the Imperialists after centuries of resistance, decided to shed the religion of the oppressors and return to her roots. (except for the overly barbaric ones) Like her Christian counterparts do with the Bible, she will handpick the practices and beliefs that she likes best. Anything that involves nature things that she likes she will keep, and will heretically toss aside anything too sticky, gory, or unfun especially if they might keep her up past her bedtime.
She looked at the vast ocean. It was Easter morning, but she had forgotten until she received a text. She had noted Good Friday, the day that for years she had sought to approach with dutiful contrition. The day on which she had been taught to be grateful to the one who had born the sins of many and to relive the agony of torture and rejection. The day on which she had once revered a cross, the symbol of God’s wrath and the vehicle to the one path to salvation.
Now, at age 45, she just feels regretful and angry; angry at all the years spent frenzying herself up into some sort of fervor about something so unclear; the years spent over functioning in a relationship that was so dubious and potentially imaginary.
She ponders what seems to be the true character of God; a god who allows the garage door to come down on an unsuspecting snail just living out their asexual day, which strangely seems to represent the order of the universe - the beauty and the terror of life on earth; the haphazard order marked by moments of transcendent bliss and horrible pain.
Anthropology tells me that humans need to quest for some kind of meaning, order, hope, or comforting belief. It seems we can’t avoid some sort of search for higher power. I am still no different. The trappings and knowledge of modern life don’t preclude me from the primitive ritual of praying, sometimes in desperation and often in gratitude, the two only truly authentic forms of prayer. Now, I’m just re-framing it and renaming it.
My daughter and I talked about it on our way home from two rainy but idyllic days car camping in Malibu, Eostre weekend, spent not pinning on an ornament or congregating, but watching the clouds, listening to rain, the ocean, and admiring the variety of plants on the earthen floor, the universal church of mankind, the one thing we can know, the soil beneath our feet.
4 comments:
Again, a blog post I can very much relate to. I would like like Easter a lot more if it focussed on a celebration of spring, like Eostre. I get the new life part of the Resurrection story — not that Jesus ever really left. But there is much about the Christian Easter story that I find very disturbing.
Yes, I like to think of the solstices and equinoxes as the true universal celebrations - nature based.
Your post reminds me of a song: https://genius.com/Andrew-peterson-dont-you-want-to-thank-someone-lyrics But it seems we've come to answer its question differently.
I'm sorry about the delay in my seeing this response. I will listen to this. Thank you for sharing.
Post a Comment