I Have a Confession to Make...

I have this little confession to make. Easter is my least favorite holiday. I can't really tell you why. Maybe, it's because I am not a fan of pastel colors. Maybe, it's because where I come from this time of year was usually filled with melting black snow and mud. Maybe it's because it represents a time when my savior was treated worse than an animal and hung on a cross. Maybe, just maybe, it's all those reasons.
As a Christian I have a reverence for Easter, but the music isn't as good as Christmas and all the talk of of crucifixion makes me grossly uncomfortable. I find the last part funny, since as a Catholic we wear Jesus on the cross around our necks and have him front, center and very large in that position in the front of the church.
Christmas, for me is joyful and full of hope. Easter, on the other hand, represents man's inhumanity to man. I know we believe He rose from the dead. I know Easter is supposed to represent eternal hope for all mankind. Cognitively, I am aware of what I am supposed to feel, but viscerally, in my gut I feel great sadness of death of any kind, so this is a season that makes me shake my head in awe that Jesus had to suffer the the fate He did at the hands of the very people He was trying to save. And I thought my life is ironic.
Every year on Good Friday, the church bells ring at the exact time of Jesus death. I would sit in church and pray. I would fast, and spend my day thinking of having to give up my life or the life of my son for the greater good. Jesus asked God that if it not be His will that God take the cup from Him and spare His life. The answer He got was a solid "No!" I have gotten that answer myself a few times. I can't imagine carrying the cross that I knew would eventually kill me, but not until I was completely humiliated and tortured. Maybe, that's why Easter is my least favorite holiday.
I will tell you, that out of all the Christian holidays Easter holds the most meaning for me. It is the holiday I learned the greatest lesson of how to be a better human being. I learned by example from Jesus on what to do when things look as though they are hopeless.
I meditate in the morning. I pray and think of all the things I love. It is in this that I find solace, forgiveness and hope. I have several mantras. I learned about mantras from doing yoga. The mantra "Ohm" means God in ancient Sanskrit. Being a modern day Christian, some times I change things up. My most used mantra comes from Easter and the story of Jesus in the garden. It is very simply, "Your will not mine". It is my reminder that I am not here for just me. It is my reminder that I am a mere speck on earth and any time I am allowed should be spent doing good, thinking good, asking for help when I need it, giving help when I can give it and always being grateful that I was here at all.
Bunnies, chicks and pastel eggs really don't do it for me. Baskets full of chocolate don't either, even though I have addiction issues with chocolate. For me, Easter has a more somber tone. God bless those who put a million blow up bunnies in their yard and fill their rooms with pastel decorations and decorated egg shells. My kids used to love this. I wish I had been more open to all that. I provided Easter baskets for my kids, but I never really got in the spirit of all the other stuff. The one tradition we did have was watching The Ten Commandments on TV, hardly as much fun as all the cute bunnies, chicks and ducks.
I was praying this morning remembering that it is Holy Saturday. My mantra became "Your will not mine". My church is in the news again for child molestation. It is another horrific blow to the Catholic church. It is criminal. I think if the priests had less arrogance they would have prayed my mantra. Too much power on any level never seems to be a good idea. Power seemingly corrupts. I say that not with 100% certainty, since I have never wielded it, but it certainly paints that particular picture. I pray for the people of the Catholic church. The people are the church, not the institution in Vatican City. My heart goes out to the victims that have carried this burden far too long. My heart also goes out to the priests who have never done anything wrong and have spent their lives trying to good for others. Maybe now something will be done to protect our children in the Catholic church. Maybe now every head shall bow and knee shall bend in humility that we are only here to work, to help, to pray, to be kind to each other, and to honor the sacrifice that was made so many years ago.
Tomorrow there will be ham, deviled eggs, and lots and lots of chocolate. Tomorrow we will argue about what mass has the least amount of traffic and whether anybody wants to go at all. Tomorrow we will celebrate bunnies, chicks, ducks and pastel eggs.
But for today, I will celebrate sacrifice. I will celebrate giving of oneself to others in any way they can. Today I will try very hard to smile at each and every person I meet, remembering that one smile may very well be the only one they get today. Today I celebrate the privilege of being alive.