Death into Life

Friends, I am writing this evening on Holy Saturday, the day in the Easter commemoration narrative between Jesus’ crucifixion and the Easter celebration of his resurrection. And I am also aware we are in the midst of the seven days of Passover when the Jewish tradition commemorates their liberation from Egyptian rule. Like the springtime evolution from winter dormancy to rebirth, the human spirit has provided rites and rituals like Easter and Passover to both recognize and accept defeat and death as part of life while also nurturing and celebrating the promise of renewal and hope. Both commemorative seasons thus are ancient expressions of the wondrous cycle of death and life, and we celebrate these occasions in the midst of the springtime burst of flowers and bird songs as nature itself celebrates a miraculous renewal.

Writing this evening on Holy Saturday, however, I am especially aware of the impact of death and the reality of oppressed dreams and hopes. I imagine Jesus’ devoted followers not only grieving the loss of a Spirit-led, charismatic leader who preached and demonstrated equality and liberation through love, but the loss of promise of personal and community liberation as well. “We have been defeated,” they must have felt.. "We continue to be doomed with Roman oppression, and we will continue to be a vulnerable and neglected under class. And we’re further in danger of being persecuted for our membership in this revolutionary new movement that threatens the status quo.”

As I write about the post crucifixion story I recognize a similar Holy Saturday state of discouragement in our own culture today. Whether we have sufficiently realized it, we’ve just endured a a week of extreme of governmental cruelty and expanded warfare. It can seem that our nation’s future is eroding before us as our nation plunges further in yet another senseless, lethal war initiated by a woeful leader, sustained by his hapless supporters and war profiteers. Trump’s comment that we cannot afford to support children and social welfare programs because we need the money for war confirmed perhaps my worst realization that our nation’s militarism is depleting our moral character and obligation as a nation to protect and serve those most marginalized and neglected.

Referring back to a “creative" comparison with the biblical Easter narrative, like Jesus' Palm Sunday triumphal procession into Jerusalem the week before his crucifixion, just last Saturday the momentous national No Kings’ demonstrations against authoritarianism and war energized millions of supporters across the nation. The Palm Sunday procession, like our No Kings’ events, demonstrates the potential for wide spread support for the commitment to change in the future.

But first we need to recover from the calamity that bears down upon us. A particular sign of hope comes not politically but spiritually through the courage and leadership of Pope Leo. I became so profoundly grateful to him this past week when he gave a particularly forceful public Palm Sunday sermon condemning war and clearly stating that reference to Jesus cannot be used to justify war. Jesus, he preached, “always rejects violence.” I had been encouraged that the prior pope, Frances, also condemned war, but Leo’s pointed remarks were so courageous and welcome to all of us who consider war the ultimate sin of humanity, however is may be justified. Even as defense, or discharged with great soldiers' valor and sacrifice, war is still “the Hell” it has been named by any who have endured it.The Pope concluded that the prayers from those who support and pray for war have “hands full of blood.”

Another encouraging sign of change is that public opinion seems to be turning against war and Trump himself. The primary reason is more practical than moral, but it is equally important. War is too costly. We are spending billions of dollars a week that would be better spent on public welfare in the states, and, by extension, to support democratic and humane programs throughout the world. Most Americans, not including soldiers, were not asked to particularly sacrifice during the past two decades of the never-ending wars beginning with Afghanistan and Iraq. Now we are experiencing rising fuel and food costs, many related to war and Trump’s often lethal yet “silent” tariff and blockade wars. And people are willing to go to the streets to express their opposition.

On the day after Jesus’ cruel death penalty his followers likely fell into deep grief and many went into hiding and denial. Many of us feel similarly today about the brazenly unjust and murderous behavior of our nation’s government. But we are not defeated, and we are not hopeless. Passover and Easter are above all rites of victory over hardship and death that lead to the celebration of opportunities for recovered and grateful new life, individually and as a nation. The transition from death into life is seldom without grieving and struggle. The challenge is to follow with the creation of a more just, loving and peaceful world. Quaker founder George Fox was quoted, amidst the pervasive warfare of 17th century England, “I saw also that there was an ocean of darkness and death, but an infinite ocean of light and love flowed over the ocean of darkness. And in that also I saw the infinite love of God, and I had great openings.” (1647)

We are living in that liminal space between darkness and light in these tumultuous times.

Peace,
Tom