Easter Fire

The wonder of Easter is that it ever got coopted by a particular parochial religion, as if Christianity or the story of Jesus' death and resurrection was unique. It seems so to us thanks to the Roman Emperor Constantine who succeeded in doing what George W. Bush sems eager to do, make Christianity the official religion of the nation. When he did that many of the dreams and ceremonies of other religions and pagan peroples were translated into Christianity. I find this appropriate, even a good thing, until we Christians begin claiming exclusive rights to the reality they reflect.

The dying and rising god is, of course, about the daily appearance of the sun and its frightening disappearance every night. Which of us, in touch with the primoridal essence in us, does not know the dread of seeing the sun disappear, wondering if we will ever see it again.

Spring and passion, fertility, all combine to feed the odds against wish we humans cannot quell for some protection against the reality that all that lives must die. That every relationship ends in loss.

Then comes the heart of the Easter faith; that dying is the means to the end we most long for. That change and aging, which we fear, mysteriously provide richer new life than we previously imagined.