So Easter Sunday has come and gone. It was a beautiful morning with equally beautiful music and words. We once again walked into the story of this one we call Jesus and into the big Mystery of resurrected life. People worked tirelessly to make sanctuaries shine, filled them with symbols that mean different things to different people and yet are powerful to all. Musicians slaved over the scores and music people ‘need’ to have it truly be Easter for them. Little surprises were sprinkled throughout to please the faithful and keep the worship planners creative and on their toes. At the places where I was, people turned out in droves to celebrate this important experience of the Christian household.
In my own faith community, we started the morning with bagpipes, always the sign of a good day to me. We rested in the semi-darkness of a cloudy day that would later offer up sunshine. Another symbol that was not lost on me. People arrived in a variety of brighter colors than they have been wearing over the last months. Though their color was vibrant, their faces also gave off a joyous quality which began to be contagious. Though the morning was starting cold, dark and dreary, we would not let this get in the way of what we had come to do: celebrate that new life is always the good news.
As our other services unfolded, that same enthusiasm wove through the greetings, the music, the prayers, the words. Looking out at the packed pews, I wondered at the many reasons people had woken early, shone up and were present. For many it was tradition. For others it was where they were every other Sunday of the year. Others had been nudged and cajoled by relatives, mothers, mostly, if my own experience proves true. Many people. Many reasons.
But as I reflected on the people and the morning, I began to think that one of driving reasons folks show up for this particular Sunday morning, is that everyone wants to be reminded that we are all a part of something bigger than our own individuality. We also want to be reminded of a larger story that holds our lives. Easter does this. While theologically we may argue over the message of this holy day, we are united in the need to make meaning of this birth, life, and death of which we are all a part. And we are united in the mystery of this rebirth, this resurrection we see and hope for. Easter does this, too.
In preparation for our Easter celebration, volunteers had gathered to decorate our sanctuary with white, paper flowers that adorned our airy, overhead space. These flowers danced and moved in random ways during our worship. I watched as one would, for no reason I could see, simply begin to spin like a dervish, moving in its own particular way. At other times, the whole fragile yet enormous sculpture would begin to slowly spin a gentle circle above us. Since I was able to observe this for two solid hours, I thought I would be able to figure out the how and why of its movement. Like much of this celebration, it remains a mystery to me.
Later in the day, after the sound of trumpets and the Hallelujah Chorus had floated out of my consciousness, the sight of those spinning, white flowers stayed with me. I am still thinking of them this morning. Somehow their movement is carrying a message for me, one that will take much longer to discern. I believe it may have something to do with this unseen, yet visible, movement of the One who breathes among us, above us, through us, creating beauty, unbidden movement, and a dance that may take us to places we had not imagined or believed we could go. Just writing this I think of the life of Jesus. Wasn’t that his invitation? Isn’t this one of the messages of Easter?
These flowers will continue to be in our midst for the next several weeks. I believe they hold and will continue to float the many messages of Easter in one of our worship spaces. Their spinning, individually and collectively, will continue to offer us a reflection of what we have sung and prayed into new life. They will bless us and remind us to continue the work of Easter. Today, tomorrow and always.
