May 2022: Now the green blade riseth!
Dear Friends,
"Now the green blade riseth . . ."
So begins my favorite Easter hymn. The seed that lays in the earth becomes the wheat that "springeth green." Just so, the hymn says, Jesus lay in the grave and then rose.
Some people are offended by the use of natural metaphors for the resurrection. They want our Easter talk to be about the resurrection of Jesus, the promised resurrection of our bodies, as distinct from any cyclical natural events. That's fine, if you can do it. But for me, the Easter story is made concrete in all the ways the world is made new.
Spring is the closest I can come to experiencing the power of surprising new life. It happens every year, and every year my heart opens to the miracle as if for the first time. I walk up and down our little lane, inspecting the flowers and grasses and trees as they bring forth new beauty.
This year we planted a wildflower mix in our flower beds. We don't know what is coming up - we just see the signs of unstoppable growth. I think the Easter moment is like that. We may know (or not) what has been planted, what we saw go into the ground, but we don't really know what will appear. We know that the Christ energy never dies, but we don't know what form it will take in our lives today. That means we need to pay attention.
Each day I visit the flower beds. I see the little green sprouts, and I wait to learn what sort of flower they are. And each day I visit my soul, and see what might be growing there. Sometimes weeds are growing, but I may not know yet which are weeds and which are new blossoms I don't recognize. Each day I visit Jesus in our chapel, and in the garden. I listen for the voice of the Beloved. As I go about my day, I continue to look and listen for abiding love and shocking transformation.
"Love has come again, like wheat that springeth green." May your weary heart be touched by that love, however it appears to you. May you find yourself to be a surprising new shoot in God's garden. And may you rejoice to see all the others with whom you share God's soil.
Sister Shane, for the Companions