Tuesday 4th March 2008
It was a day off and it wasn’t going well. Work was oppressive, the media were in pursuit, and it was still February, my least favourite month. My spiritual director and my wife (an irresistible combination) said that if it all got too much I should go and walk round the garden and get in touch with realities other than those determined by the desk. So I did.
The sun was shining and there was some real warmth in the air. The birds were producing the kind of symphony you can’t account for, given that they’re all soloists. I came upon a glorious carpet of crocuses and saw other bulbs just bursting to get going. It was beautiful. Paradise restored.
Just two things broke the magic. Into the enchanted moment came the discordant note of a police car or ambulance that seemed intent on circling north Oxford in search of a crisis. Then two huge military aircraft came roaring overhead, reminding us of other worlds of distant conflict. Paradise lost.
Which reality should I live in? It seemed to me like a choice. I could continue in my dark world of despair, symbolised by the sirens and the aircraft, or live in the promise of spring, symbolised by the crocuses and pregnant nature. ‘I set before you this day, life and death, blessing and curse; therefore choose life.’
Easter asks us the same question. In a sense, Easter is a choice. Which reality shall I choose? Shall I live in my darkest days, my Good Fridays, or should I choose Easter day, the life that overflows?
I once went on a retreat where the somewhat austere retreat conductor threw out a gem amidst the rather sombre fare he otherwise offered. He said: ‘Never let the sorrows of this world hide from you the joy of Christ risen.’ It’s the joy of Christ risen that I always hope provides the backlighting of my life as a Christian, whatever happens.
I don’t want to avoid the dark complexities of Good Friday – my newspaper, email and postbag never let me forget. But I do want to celebrate a life so full, so voluminous, so irrepressible, that even death cannot contain it. I want to let the risen Christ permeate all I do and all the Church does.
That’s Easter. Enjoy it all year.