c. 1999 Religion News Service
(Dale Hanson Bourke is publisher of Religion News Service.)
UNDATED _ Ever since I was a little girl I have loved everything about Easter. I don’t mean the chocolate bunnies and the marshmallow eggs. I mean the church celebration of Easter.
It always seems wonderfully extravagant to spend so much energy on this one day. The sanctuary bedazzled with banners and swags, the purple-robed clergy in once-a-year glory, the sweet smell of lilies filling the air.
I especially love the triumphal music that seems to shake the windows of the church. I always find myself singing full-voiced (if slightly off-key), caught up in the moment and forgetting to be self-conscious. When the last hymn is over and the sheet music closed, I have a sense of sadness that we will have to wait another year to hear the songs again.
I even love getting up before dawn to attend sunrise services. I will never forget the time I bundled up the family and made them sit outside in subfreezing temperatures so we could experience the Easter sun rising over the red rocks of Colorado. As the gathered crowd sang”Hosanna,”I felt tears of joy forming. My children claimed to have cried, too, but they say it was because of the cold.
Most ministers will say that all this pageantry surrounding Easter is appropriate. After all, even more than Christmas, this is the biggest holiday Christians have. It is the Resurrection that gives Christianity transcendent mystery. In Jesus’ triumph over death we are offered eternal life. That’s certainly worth some hoopla.
But having said all that, I also wonder what Jesus would do to celebrate Easter.
The more I read about his life and public ministry, the more I see how starkly his example compares to the practices of the modern church.
Because we dramatize the events of his life in order to teach them, it is easy to get the impression that Jesus made a big deal out of his ministry. In fact, nothing could be further from the truth.
Jesus worked quietly, usually with individuals, and often with the most marginalized people of his day. He healed a nameless woman in a crowd and a cynical beggar by a pool. He touched the life of a fallen woman who was considered unclean and dared to befriend a despicable tax collector.
He never performed miracles to prove who he was and when he did supercede the laws of nature, he did so pointing heavenward to”the father who sent me”. His Crucifixion appeared to disprove his claims and he did nothing to save himself. And then, even after his followers held on to hope, he did not appear to them.
Instead, he waited three days, long after the disheartened crowd had left and only one person was there to witness the supernatural event. And the witness he chose was once again a woman, a person without credibility in his time.
Jesus was never about pageantry or triumphalism. He did his father’s work and said little about it. He didn’t even seem to be concerned that his deeds would be appreciated or recorded.
My guess is that Jesus would find all the celebration of Easter to be shockingly overblown. And judging from the pattern of his life, he’d be much less concerned about the pagan customs of bunnies and baskets than he would be about the actions of those who call themselves his followers.
It’s not that I think we should abandon all of the beautiful, glorious customs that have come to mean Easter to Christians. But we should realize that all of this celebrating is for us. In our human longing for transcendent moments, we have decided that bigger is better.
But after the lilies start to wilt and the sanctuary is stripped of its finery, we may discover that following Jesus Christ’s quiet example may be the best way to celebrate after all. Doing the work of the father, quietly and to those who have no power or prestige, is the way to sing”Hosanna”all year long.
IR END BOURKE
