What Easter Calls Us to

Mark 16:1-8

When the sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint him.And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. They had been saying to one another, ‘Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?’ When they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back. As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed. But he said to them, ‘Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.’

Rumi, Mathnawi III: 3555-59

The body is a narrow house, and the soul within is cramped.

God ruined it so that He might make a royal palace.

I am cramped like the embryo in the womb:

I've become nine-months old.

This migration is now urgent,

but unless the throes of childbirth overtake my mother, what am I to do?

In this prison I am amidst the fire.

My mother, my bodily nature, with its death throes is birthing Spirit, so that the lamb may be released from the ewe, and begin to graze in the green fields.

Come, open your womb, for this lamb has grown big.

What does Easter point to? What is its meaning, its call, for those of us who seek to follow in the path of Jesus? 

Over the last several days, these questions have been rolling around in me. And although I know that some perfectly fine answers have been offered before, there’s been something deeper that’s been calling me, inviting my attention.

At this point, it’s probably helpful to name that I’m starting with the understanding that the central message and practice of Christianity, or at least of Inner Christianity is kenosis – the path of self-emptying love. 

From the Incarnation through Jesus’ life and ministry into his free offering on the cross — the entire path was one of giving himself away — not clinging to his stature, as St Paul says in the letter to the Philippians.

And while this path of self-emptying was certainly efficacious all in its own, there’s more than it being offered merely on our behalf. We too are called to “take up this cross and follow” — follow in the path of self-emptying love.

Taken from this vantage, we could say that at least one message of the Easter celebration is that though we are called — and will be called to offer ourselves freely in self-giving love, in some way shape or form, Easter tells us that even through death, we are held in something much greater — in Love, in Mercy.

But I think that there’s even more to it than that.

A couple of days ago, this excerpt from Rumi’s Mathnawi found me as I was preparing for a class. I know for a fact that I had read this poem no more than two weeks earlier, but at that time it didn’t jump out at me. This time, however, something really shimmered, as we sometimes say about words or phrases encountered in the practice of Lectio divina. 

In this excerpt, I hear Rumi talking about the birth of a much more expansive expression of our being. We could call this the soul, the light body, second body… these and perhaps other terms. Nevertheless, Rumi describes a being within us that grows until our physical body can contain us no longer. Through ”death throes,” this other manifestation is given birth.

Like many, I felt sad by the news of Pope Francis’ death on Monday. And while this is a normal human emotion — and while it's perfectly natural, normal, and healthy to grieve, there seems to be something else going on.

It doesn’t escape me that Pope Francis died on Easter Monday. In the Roman tradition, the Octave of Easter — Easter Sunday and the seven days that follow — are all celebrated as one day. So it’s no stretch to say that Pope Francis died on Easter.

In Judaism, there is a tradition that dying on Rosh Hashanah — the highest, holiest day of the year is a sign of great righteousness. ”God has held back until the last moment because they were needed most and were most righteous,” Nina Totenberg wrote — referring to Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s death on Rosh Hashanah in 2020.

While this custom does not come into Christianity, there is at least a sense of its resonance. It’s as if Pope Francis’ being could no longer be held by his ailing, dying, human body. And he became one with the All again on the day of resurrection.

In all of this is a rich blessing and a deep call. The rich blessing is that we are held. “Love is stronger than death,” as scripture reminds us. And, the great teachers — and I will include Jesus and Pope Francis both in that category — are even more available to us for help and guidance from beyond this Earthly realm.

The call is for us to follow — to follow in self-emptying love and to follow in righteousness. 

For whatever shape these may take in our lives, this, I believe, is the deep call of Easter — the path that is lain before by Jesus, the Risen One.

#InnerChristianity #Spirituality #Religiousbutnotreligious