EASTER IN 2025

From my earliest memories, our family was fully immersed in Easter celebrating: the bunny, the eggs, the vinegar smell, the hunt, the candy, a hollow chocolate bunny and of course, Peeps. New, scratchy, stiff clothes and uncomfortable shoes, extra butch wax to keep unruly hair in check. Pre-Sunday school threats about not getting dirty or wrinkly. And as we emerged from the car in the church parking lot there was a last minute spit and polish. Mom would literally spit on a tissue and wipe our mouths and pluck the "sleep" from the corners of our eye sockets. Into the church we would march with the throng that was extra large because it's Easter, and everyone goes to church on Easter.

My Amazing-Missus was raised in the same traditions so it was easy to lead our boys in that path. We didn't hesitate to let the Bunny and stuff be a part of their Eastertime experience. I know some today worry that having Peter Cottontail, Santa, and The Tooth Fairy in the childhood narrative will cause doubts in adulthood about the reality of the stories of faith. Honestly, I never remember feeling bamboozled by the mix of fiction and non-fiction gift-givers. To this day, I readily accept the truth of Jesus' having lived and living still. Of course there are still those beyond-understanding parts that I need a deep faith to accept. I'm like that guy in the Bible that said: "Lord I believe! Help me with my unbelief."

This morning, I read an article in the New York Times that included what we might call testimonies from people of some renown. This one from Andrea Bocelli, the 66 year-old, blind, Italian singer struck a chord with me:

As a boy in a Tuscan hill town, I went to the local Catholic church for the organ. They let me play it once a month. There, in that small church, in that cobbled, orange town, I fell in love with music.

My belief in God came later, when I read Blaise Pascal’s idea of a wager: He writes that we all have a choice; to believe or not to believe. Given the uncertainty, how little we know about the world, he argues it is a better bet to choose belief, to embrace mystery. That made sense to me. So I decided to dedicate my life to my faith.

My career is my offering. Saint Augustine is quoted as saying that those who sing pray twice. If that is true, I have prayed much of my life, and I am in a constant dialogue with God. --NYT. 4/19/2025.

I'll admit it. I do not like the uncertainty we are living in in 2025. I do not like the distorting of the message of Jesus. I'm in a bit of despair, but not without hope. I choose belief and embrace the mystery.

Here's an image I found on some social feed. My first thought: That's what it feels like to be a Peep in 2025.

For Sunday, March 27, 2016. Easter.

DON'T GET ME WRONG, I love autumn: the turning leaves, the cool, crisp air, the Pumpkin Spice Latte. But, I can’t imagine Easter in any other season but spring. Can you?

How can we fully appreciate life beyond the grave without the imagery and poetry of spring flowers and colors, trees budding, and longer days, newness breaking forth?

Do those in the Southern Hemisphere dye their eggs in deep reds, oranges, and golds? Does their Easter Bunny wear a sweater? Probably not. But happy Easter and happy autumn to all our brothers and sisters Down Under anyway.

Springtime with Nora

Recollections

rec·ol·lec·tion |ˌrekəˈlekSH(ə)n| noun

the action or faculty of remembering something.
“to the best of my recollection no one ever had a bad word to say about him”
a thing recollected; a memory.

As I write, I’m listening to a song called “Recollections” by Miles Davis and band. It’s 19 minutes of free jazz and one of my favorites. I tend to be mindful of having a soundtrack to life.

This week I roadtripped to Nashville. I prepared for the trip emotionally and spiritually by listening several times to Loretta Lynn’s new record, “Full Circle”. The trip represented a sort of full circle for me. I was visiting Floyd and Ann Craig at their beautiful home in Nashville, AKA, The No-Agenda Retreat Center. Riding shotgun was my dear friend and mentor Doug Manning. Driving up from Atlanta to join us was my “brother” Gene Chapman.

For me this was a re-collection of people who have been there in some of the most pivotal times of my life. We spent hours recollecting and remembering the past better than it was. (As we’re apt to do.)

Back in the early 70s I was going through a crisis of faith and calling. Floyd was my go-to guy during this and he introduced me to Doug. If you’re interested in more of that story, I’ve told a bit of it in a post last year about this time. Gene and I met a few years later as I was seeking to live out my calling on the other side of the crisis. I've always felt I could be completely real with Gene.

Hopefully you get a sense of how important these guys are to me, as are the recollections that have rushed in through being with them again.

photo by Krystal Brauchi

I also hope that in the midst of the bunnies and eggs and chocolate and ham this weekend, you will re-collect your friends and families and that there will be good times of story-telling and recollecting.

Most of all I hope for a time of anamnesis for all of us.

anamnesis |ˌanəmˈnēsis| noun
(from the Greek word ἀνάμνησις meaning reminiscence and/or memorial sacrifice), in Christianity is a liturgical statement in which the Church refers to the memorial character of the Eucharist and/or to the Passion, Resurrection and Ascension of Christ. It has its origin in Jesus’ words at the Last Supper, “This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me”, (Luke 22:19, 1 Corinthians 11:24-25).  -- Wikipedia

Anamnesis is just a fancy word for recollecting, for remembering, but that is powerful stuff. I heard a doctor speak one time about remembering. He explained that when someone loses an appendage, let’s say a finger, it is called “dismembered”. He said that when it is reattached it should be called “re-membered”.

That’s what happens when we remember: we reengage, we reconnect, we re-member and we recollect. That’s why families and friends gather and stories are told; to re-member.

At our No-Agenda Retreat in Nashville, we all gathered around a table for lunch in a restaurant. Floyd asked, “Do you all remember the way Grady Nutt used to say the blessing before a meal?” Grady Nutt was a special guy to all of us there. Grady, unfortunately died in a plane crash many years ago, but we remember him.

So Floyd led us in the blessing, just as Grady would have done. We all joined hands and Floyd said exuberantly in a voice loud enough for all to hear, “He’s done it again!!!!”

What a beautiful acknowledgement of the provision of God. It was so wonderful to re-collect and recollect.