Rising in Love: An Easter Reflection

 “And when the Sabbath was past, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome, bought spices, so that they might go and anoint him. And very early on the first day of the week they went to the tomb when the sun had risen. And they were saying to one another, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the door of the tomb?” And looking up, they saw that the stone was rolled back; for it was very large. And entering the tomb, they saw a young man sitting on the right side, dressed in a white robe; and they were amazed. And he said to them, “Do not be amazed; you seek Jesus of Nazareth who was crucified. He has risen, he is not here; see the place where they laid him.” Mark 16: 1 – 6 

In the approach to Easter this year, I have been drawn to the imagery of the stone rolled back, and I have been contemplating what it might mean for me, in my life. This month, I have been undertaking a 21-day Sadhana, facilitated by my yoga teacher and the supportive community of fellow practitioners that surround her, focused on a variety of practices for opening the heart to new opportunities. Sadhana is a Sanskrit word meaning 'discipline' in pursuit of a goal, and in Kundalini Yoga it refers to a daily spiritual practice done with the goal of transcending the ego.

The image of the stone rolled back and the empty tomb have become for me a metaphor for the opening of my heart. The tomb stone represents death, separation, the ego, the false self, all the ways I close myself off from love. The stone rolled back to reveal the empty tomb represents life, union, the true self, all the wondrous possibilities of a lived in the fullness of love.

The journey of Lent is a microcosm of life's spiritual journey – the continuing transformation from death to life, from fear to love. We begin on Ash Wednesday by acknowledging our mortality and our human frailties. We end on Easter Sunday by celebrating the triumph of love over death and our own participation in that great, universal love – the miracle of resurrection that happens within us and around us every day when we forgive ourselves and others, and acknowledge our interconnection with all beings. 

St Epiphanios of Cyprus, one of the Early Church Fathers, in a homily given on Holy Saturday, Easter Eve, said, "I order you, O sleeper, to awake. I did not create you to be a prisoner in hell. Rise from the dead, for I am the life of the dead. Rise up, work of my hands, you who were created in my image. Rise, for you are in me and I am in you. Together we form only one person and we cannot be separated."

Franciscan spiritual teacher Richard Rohr describes the journey from the false self to the true self as a returning home to the truth of who we are in God and who God is in us, which is love. In his book, Immortal Diamond, he writes, "Many Christians begin Lent on Ash Wednesday with the signing of ashes on the forehead and the words from Genesis 3:19, which is just the first shocking part of the message, "Dust you are and unto dust you shall return." But then we should be anointed, Christed, with a holy oil on Easter morning, with the other half of the message: love is always stronger than death and unto that love you have now returned.”

The true self, the connected self, is the self that acts in love and from love. But it is not always easy to choose love. Sometimes it is easier to choose the illusion of separation. Easter reminds us that we always live in union with the divine, but sometimes we cover up this reality with the stone of a hard heart and we need to roll away the stone and recover our true nature.

The UU minister Paul Stephan Dodenhoff, in his piece Why I Celebrate Easter, writes, “Every day offers us, yet again, the chance to experience our own Divinity and spiritual Transformation. The stone is rolled away and the tomb is left empty every time we acknowledge our own Christ Reality—or whatever name you choose to use—and the Christ Reality of all beings and things as part and parcel of the Ultimate Divine Mystery in which we “live and move and have our being.” To do that, we must die to our small, petty ego-selves: a difficult, often painful process.”

During my Lenten Sadhana journey, there were some days on which I  found myself experiencing resistance to completing my yoga practice. This is not unusual for me, since I can struggle with the discipline required to maintain a consistent, daily spiritual practice. But this resistance didn't feel like that. It felt like I was resisting the process of continuing to open my heart wider. Eventually I realised my resistance was linked to some difficulties I was experiencing in my relationship with a friend. 

This friend has always been what I would politely call 'scatty' but recently the results of their behaviour had left me feeling hurt. My friend had made commitments which they had not kept. They apologised, but I had spent what felt like too much time and energy picking up the messy pieces they had left behind, on several occasions. I was beginning to become resentful and in danger of hardening my heart towards them. I realised if I didn't address the issue then I would eventually have to walk away from the friendship. 

When a relationship is abusive and the other person does not respect us, the best thing we can do is to walk away. This friendship is not like that. My friend is a good person, who is kind, funny and very good company. They also happen to be forgetful and lead a chaotic life, which means they don't always honour their commitments. It is part of the way they are wired. It is no use hoping they will change. 

I didn't want to lose the friend I love, but I had begun to feel that love for my friend and love for myself were in conflict, pulling me in different directions. How could I act with love for both myself and for my friend?

First, I had to take a step back and acknowledge that it was my bruised ego that was causing me to feel annoyed and under-valued, that my friend had not deliberately set out to hurt me.  And then I made the decision to pull back from some of the plans we had made together, to give myself space to consider how I might approach things differently in future.

Ultimately, I know that if I want to keep my friend, I have to keep them warts and all. I choose to stay in relationship, to risk feeling hurt and let down again. I choose to open my heart to love, knowing that I may not always like the consequences. Sometimes love is hard work. The ego is not transcended in one day or even in the space of a 21-day Sadhana.

I believe in the inherent goodness of people. I believe that people rarely do hurtful things deliberately. Sometimes it may be through ignorance or because they are hurting themselves. Opening our hearts to people doesn't mean we need to condone their behaviour. It means we open our hearts to their pain and try to understand where they are coming from. 

Humans are hardwired for connection and community. We are hardwired for love. We may not always like what the people we love do or don't do. We make not always like all the people in our communities. But we can choose to keep loving them, even when it feels difficult. I believe that, in the end, love is always worth it.

This Easter, may we recognise our interdependence with all beings, how we are woven into the fabric of being itself. May we accept that we are loved unconditionally and keep returning to the truth of that love, that we may offer love and forgiveness to one another. And may we give thanks for the gift of new life that we receive each morning upon waking, and the opportunities each new day brings.

I leave you with the words of UU minister Molly Housh Gordon from her piece We Keep Rising in Love, “Is new life possible? Is love stronger, even, than death? The question itself invites us to rise up, and to live as though it were true—to make it true in our living... You can crush Love down, bury it, cover it over, but it will rise. It will reach for the sun, and we will reach for each other. Love will have the final word, even if that word is just a question, a wild possibility, a whisper to rise and follow wherever it may lead. Communities formed and nurtured in love will rise up for and with each other again and again.” Amen.