Fixing Easter

There is a move afoot in some ecumenical circles to find a common date for the observance of Easter. I won't go into the calendrical problems here — you can read about it on Wikipedia — but some churches follow the archaic Julian calendar, while others accept the Gregorian revision that brings the astronomical year into better sync. This leads to Easter being celebrated on different days by different Christian traditions. (There are also some splinter groups who don’t like either of these solutions, which further complicates things.)

Beyond that, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, has suggested that not just a common date, but a fixed date, would be even better; which is to say, for instance, that Easter might always fall on the second Sunday in April. He has argued that this would be ever so much more rational and helpful for the business world and for the schools. He may be singing the lost number from My Fair Lady, “Why can't Easter be more like Michaelmas?” — but he also seems to me to be upending a longstanding tradition primarily so as to make the merchants more comfortable in the Temple precincts. Such a move might be more rational for the schools and banks, but, to paraphrase Jane Austen, "it would not be near so much like Easter."

While I certainly support the effort to settle on the calendar, Julian or Gregorian, to find a common date for the observance for Easter, I think in fixing a date we would miss something literally cosmic about the traditional dance of the sun and moon and earth that governs the commemoration.

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

The Green Blade Riseth

It is hardly considered unusual for a Christian to believe in miracles, and what I experienced this past week has no elements of the supernatural about it. But it had the effect of a miracle, which is to say, it increased my faith, and lifted my heart.

Last year after our Eastertide celebrations, the Altar Guild and I moved all the many potted hyacinths and tulips and lilies off of the high and side altars where they had been arranged into the old unused upper parish hall — a large room that over the years had become mostly a storage space as it was in no condition to be used for much else — the heat having been cut off a few years ago. My goal was to let the plants dry out over the summer and then remove the bulbs in the fall and plant them outdoors. Well, things tending to gang agley, and other matters arising, I never got around to harvesting and planting.

Last month, however, a decision was made to start a Montessori school for young children in the old hall, which requires significant renovation before it can be used. The first thing that had to happen was spring cleaning-out of all of the various things that had accumulated there — including a lovely bishop’s chair which is now repaired and sitting in our sanctuary where it belongs.

I went into the old hall prepared to pack up all of the dead dry plastic-potted plants when what to my wondering eyes should appear but a number of fresh green sprouts, and in a few cases some actual blooming pink and purple hyacinths! There must have been enough residual moisture, and the unheated space cool enough, and enough light coming in through the large stained-glass window for the bulbs to survive the winter and begin to come to life.

I’m happy to report that about two thirds of the bulbs emerged, and they are now freshly watered and arranged on the side altars. Blessed Eastertide!

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG