What strikes me about this holy season
Is how a simple Jewish peasant
With no temporal power of which to speak -
Fewer divisions than the Pope, we might say,
With less money in his pocket than you or I,
Who never traveled out of his own provincial world,
Who wrote no book for us to decipher,
Who was crucified in humiliation by imperial Rome,
Could have been the genesis of a world-wide faith
That commands the allegiance
Of no less than a billion and a half souls.
Now here is immortality one can wrap one's mind around.
Belief in resurrection was common in that ancient world
Which knew no science - where miracle was king.
But here is an immortality that requires
No credulity - no blind faith -
An immortality that leaves the skeptics among us skeptical -
That leaves non-believers shaking their heads in disbelief.
Resurrection was an after-thought for those who loved him,
Having more to do with their hearts than with his body.
What he was lived on after him.
Here was a man who took seriously
The responsibilities of immortality.
Oh, I doubt he was self-conscious of his place in history -
To me he was a Jewish prophet trying to reform the faith
into which he was born
and in which he died,
A prophet purifying the ancient law of love and justice,
Not the Son of God who defied nature's laws.
"There is a land of the living
and a land of the dead,
and the bridge is love,
the only survival,
the only meaning."
The bridge of love is the meaning of immortality.
It gives voice more to observation than speculation -
Observation of what we have seen
Rather than what we might like to see,
For we know our beloved dead live within us still,
Long after their bodies have departed in peace.
We don't know what has happened to them,
Or what will happen to us - beyond unsubstantiated hope.
We do know that because we live, we must die -
There just isn't any other way to do it.
We would like to live forever - at least at times -
And we know we can't and won't -
And that probably is a blessing in disguise,
For who can imagine the joy of life if it could last forever!
It is because it ends that life is so grand and glorious.
"From too much love of living,
From hope and fear set free,
We thank with brief thanksgiving
Whatever gods there be
That no life lives for ever;
That dead men rise up never;
That even the weariest river
Winds somewhere safe to sea."
Of course it would be nice - it would be good, I suppose,
If we did live forever - but can you imagine it?
Why? To what end?
Is our guest appearance on earth to count for nothing?
Is the brief, flickering glow
We cast in the eternal darkness to mean nothing at all?
Are we nothing but a comet creasing light across the sky
Only to disappear in the vastness of space and time?
I know not the first thing about the resurrection of the dead -
Though I live among the doubters.
I know nothing of the life hereafter -
Though I am a skeptic here.
I do know something about eternity, though -
An eternity that is not measured by years or eons,
But by the joy or sorrow of a single moment
That sears into our souls,
Measured by the energy we release in serving life about us -
That gives us a why for being.
Eternity is measured by the depth of our love
And the height of our passion.
As for immortality -
I believe in it as much as I believe my own heart-beat.
Believe in it - why I've seen it done!
I've seen it in the way poets and prophets,
Saints and seers and sages
And, yes, quite ordinary people, the likes of you and me,
Grasp life and take it whole
Who live in grace and courage,
Who give themselves to what is greater than self,
Leaving us songs to sing and stories to tell and deeds to do.
Leaving us memories to cherish long after they are gone.
This is immortality.
In fact, I'm counting on my own personal immortality -
An immortality that neither calculates resurrection
Nor imagines a heavenly abode,
But by which I leave something to remember me by -
Perhaps a sermon,
Perhaps a kind deed when no one else cared,
A word of encouragement when the way seemed hard,
A smile when it seemed smiling was not worth the effort,
Or a laugh when the silence cried out for humor.
Funny thing about immortality, though,
We're never quite sure we've earned it -
Done enough - been enough to merit being remembered
When we take
our leave of this life.
It's more like a kind of osmosis -
Spiritual and moral more than biological -
A kind of infiltration into those about us
If we have some life-giving stuff in our veins.
Funny thing about immortality -
The more we seek it, the less likely it is.
The more we hang on to life as though it were a possession
The more we lose -
For life and love grow by being given away.
Life is not what we hoard, but what we give.
And death is the ultimate giving -
The presentation of a life as an offering to those who follow.
Funny thing about immortality - it's a heavy responsibility.
The mere thought that what we say and do and are
Live beyond us -
Like ripples in a pond that never cease -
Like echoes in an infinite canyon that keep coming back.
That is enough to scare anyone.
It's rather like a burden -
This idea that we go on and on and on -
That the essence of us continues
In those we love and who loved us,
That we have so little time here and now
To create a little light in the darkness -
A little warmth in the coldness -
A little love in the indifference.
A little joy in the sadness.
"After the final no there comes a yes
And on that yes the future depends."
Life - with a capital "L" - is eternal -
So far as we can know or guess.
The Great Life Process - which some call God -
And which others refuse to name or even acknowledge,
Goes on and on and on - so far as we know into Infinity.
Life - with a small "l" - our life on earth - is not
eternal
So far as we know - no guessing here.
While we might not like it - I think it's rather better that way.
Otherwise we might not take
Our responsibility for immortality as seriously as we should.
And we should.
Easter, for me at least, is not about resurrection -
Unless you mean nature's rebirth,
Unless you mean the myth surrounding a good man
Whose physical life could end,
Whose spiritual influence could not.
No, for me, Easter is about immortality.
Easter makes us take thought about
What will survive of us.
What kind of bridge of love we make for those who follow.
What kind of yes echoes after the final no.
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