Monday, April 02, 2007

this sunday: resurrection



We get to celebrate Easter this week. Everything made new. God's eternal life triumphs over the ugliest of human violence. And, even over death. There's nothing to fear. We belong in God, who is everything.

When Mary encounters Jesus in that garden about what had seemed to be his tomb, she's not ready to recognize him. She, along with the other disciples, is STILL not prepared for what's going on in God. It's not until he calls her name that she realizes it's him--that she's speaking with the one who she mourns. (And, it's not just magical thinking.)

He tells her not to hold onto him.

I think Resurrection is like that: you just can't hold onto it BUT it changes everything.

I've been trying to figure out how to imagine that--an image for this.

There are many good ones that've been thought of before: the freedom and lightness of a butterfly (transformed from it's previous life as a caterpillar, after a time in that tomb-like cocoon), the grace of Easter lilies. The precious and stunning display of sunsets--light transformed in an instant to reveal colors previously imperceptible.

You cannot own, control, or hold too tightly to these.

But, this morning, I'm thinking even more of sandhill cranes.

It's crane season back home in Nebraska--those incredible days when millions of cranes gather in a narrow stretch of the Platte River. There, they gather strength by gleaning grain from the cornfields. They sleep in the river to stay safe. And, best of all, they dance.

Each night, just before sunset, they return to the river en masse, singing and dancing (and hoping to attract mates). For that brief period of time, these days in late March and early April, the beauty of the cranes (usually distributed halfway around the world) is visible in overwhelming glory, in one place. Fragile-looking and wonderful. Resilient and full of life.

What images would you give to resurrection life?

2 comments:

Dylan said...

Michigan, where I grew up, is the second highest apple producing state in the country. Each spring I looked forward to apple blossoms... so pretty and so fragrant. :)

feminist_mom said...

Easter and resurrection emerges as the sandhill cranes-- making their ancient noises all march in the fields near the marshy platte river--- and as they gather in the river each sunset, eat, dance -- Now they have new plans as Easter approaches...... they find the southerly winds up high in the blue sky and they fly away from Nebraska to new places with hopes of joining us next march in the great American flyway area of NE!