My Secular, Sacred Easter
I ponder whether Easter is about eggs, chocolate... or something else.
My Secular, Sacred Easter
I ponder whether Easter is about eggs, crucifixes… or love.
I find myself on the city streets early on a Friday morning. That’s grand, I think, I’ll pick up a few bits I need. But the shutters are drawn on the shop I want to go to, even though a notice on the window says it’s open at 9am.
What the…
But then I remember. It’s Good Friday.
Later, I meet some women and tell them I can’t believe I forgot.
‘I’ve really gone secular,’ I say.
We all laugh. And then find ourselves talking wistfully about how we wish we could believe again, in a more solid way.
Early on Easter Saturday morning, I make up for my spiritual laxity by listening to a podcast by the author Michael Harding. I treat it like Mass, let his wisdoms about faith and love seep into me.
Later, I immerse myself in my millions of nieces and nephews. The noise is deafening, but my reward lies in kisses, snuggles and fits of laughter.
Talk turns to the meaning of Easter. The radio tells us it’s all about the chocolate and ponders on the insane price of cocoa. A mother her child that it’s all about eggs and chickens. I suspect that eggs are pagan, but do a quick Google to check.
Photo Description: Here’s a bowl of attractively coloured eggs, which are Christian, but have carried through to modern, secular times.
Google tells me that the egg tradition began with early Christians in Mesopotamia and came to us via the countries of Eastern Europe, which decorate their eggs in bright colours.
On Easter Monday morning, we meet a woman who tells us she has been to a sunrise ceremony that morning held on Tramore Beach.
‘The Protestant minister conducts it every year,’ she says. ‘And do you what he told us? That Easter lasts for fifty days.’
‘Oh, yeah, until Christ ascended.’
‘Yeah, whatever, whatever,’ says the woman, in a tone that tells me I’m guilty of womansplaining.
But it was simply a memory bubbling up from religion class at school, of a man walking a dusty road, spreading the word.
Later, I meet a friend and her devout Catholic mother.
‘Did you get to any devotion on Good Friday?’ the mother says.
‘I’m such a heathen, I thought the shops would be open.’
She laughs. She’s a devout Catholic with a sense of humour.
‘But I did listen to a podcast about Good Friday,’ I tell her.
And she’s kind enough to say:
‘Sure, that’s better than anything.’
Easter is quiet. Its meaning creeps up on you. Michael Harding says that Easter is about living your life for others. Actually laying down your life for others seems a bit extreme. But I do believe Easter is about love, love that makes you look beyond yourself. Love that’s larger than yourself.
Thanks to Gabrielle Keegan, who has become my second paid subscriber. Mighty stuff. Thanks to you all for reading, and if you want to get in touch, email derbhile@writewords.ie.
And to become a free or paid subscriber, hit the Subscribe button.