Easter can be a raw time. Of course, it is joyous too. I heard that my father, Paul, had died whilst we were rehearsing for Palm Sunday here in Church in 2015. A year later, in Lent, my wife, Sally’s, dad, Reg, died. My mother, Marietta died just after Easter. But, on Easter Day we celebrate the victory of life over death and of good over evil. These giants of my life, on whose shoulders I wobble, live on. We don’t do anniversaries really. But never a day goes by when these giants are not remembered and when they do not inspire our family. We are what we are because of the love and determination of my refugee parents and the deep and simple loving example of Reg.
In our Easter liturgy there is a call and response:
‘Christ is Risen,
He is Risen Indeed.’
‘Indeed’ is derived from the Middle English ‘in dede’ meaning ‘in truth’ or ‘in fact’. This is not a day that leaves space for doubt. The response is resolutely present tense. I corrected some copy at work this week where the writer had written ‘Christ has Risen’. The word ‘is’ makes this a moment not just to report but a moment for now and forever. That victory of good over evil is celebrated not just in the magical moment in the garden with the rolled away stone. It is for all time, for all people, in all places.
I do not present our parents as Christ-like or to be revered in the same way, but I do believe that as we celebrate the risen Christ, we can celebrate all who, for us, reflect part of his glory. In his resurrection he is planted somewhere, somehow, in the hearts of all who dare to believe even just a little. In addition to that – there is space for those we have loved and who have departed this earth to be planted in us forever as well.
Andrew Caspari
