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In the dark night of the soul
Our broken hearts you can make whole
- Eliza Gilkyson (“Requiem”)
Balayer, balayer, balayer
Les blessures de mon passé
Tout parait beau, tout parait léger
Comme si le monde allait changer
- Henri Dikongé (“C’est la vie”)
I am not religious. I long ago abandoned Catholicism. And I am not one to abandon one set of rules for another, no matter how incense-scented and exotic the new magic words may sound.
But… I love Easter, and what Christians call Holy Week. Because Easter is the feast of redemption, or grace. It is an energy that resonates powerfully with every human being. That no matter how badly we screw things up, no matter how cursed we may feel, no matter how long and cruel and unfair winter has been to us… still we get another chance.
It is the make-whole-again feast, and for that it requires the culmination of defeat to precede it.
That’s why I also love Good Friday. You can call it the Feast of Betrayal and Defeat. We’ve all been there. We know betrayal in our bones — the cruel sting of it, of feeling let down by our ideals, forsaken by our Creator, if you will.
Yet it is through suffering — more properly, holding on through the suffering — that the new perspective is possible. That new perspective is the flower that, seemingly impossibly, pushes through the recently-frozen, crapped-on, exhaust-choked, chemically-treated, ground.
It is the gift we are given. It is Grace. It is Easter.
It is today. And in fact, it is every day. So embrace your new beginning. You’ve earned it.
