Today
is both Easter and Passover, and it seems to me that both deserve a moment’s
reflection about their meaning in my life.
We
are at the part of the Passover holiday where we are not only still celebrating
the exodus from Egypt and the deliverance from slavery to freedom, but also the
part where we light a candle on the last night for those we lost who came before us
and whom we wish to call to mind as the holiday draws to a close.
Sometimes
random memories pop into my mind, and this morning, as I was driving to go sing
at a spiritual service (neither Christian nor Jewish), I remembered being a
young child in Hebrew school and asking the Rabbi if Jews
believed in resurrection. Looking back, that had to seem at least a little bit
odd a thing for a little kid to ask. When he told me that Judaism did indeed
believe in resurrection, it came as a relief to me, because evidently my mind
was already made up about this and I would hate to have been a heretic at the
ripe old age of ten.
So
we rise again. But what about now? In what ways are we enslaved, to what and to
whom? From what do we seek deliverance? In what ways have we been betrayed and
crucified, and in what ways have we betrayed and crucified others? These are
not the easy questions to be asking, but what better day to ask them?
What
would we like to leave behind and what would we take with us? What can we let
die, and what needs to be reborn within us?
When I light a candle for those I miss, I will say a prayer that the best qualities they
had live on in me. And as I move forward, I do so with a willingness to let go
of blame so I can embody forgiveness, a willingness to let go of judgment so I
can embody compassion, a willingness to let go of fear so I can embody love,
and a willingness to let go of all that does not serve my highest good so I can
embrace and embody all that does serve my highest good.
Whatever
your faith or your custom this Easter and Passover Sunday, I wish you peace in
your heart and an abiding knowing that you are loved and enough.
Blessings,
Ilene
