"Lift your voice rejoicing, Mary, Christ has risen from the tomb; on the cross a suffering victim, now as victor he is come. Whom your tears in death were mourning, welcome with your smiles returning. Let your alleluias rise!" ~ Episcopal Hymnal 1982, tr. Elizabeth Rundle Charles
Easter hymns have a certain bitter sweetness. They all talk about death and life in the same breath. "Raise your weary eyelids, Mary... see the wounds for you he bore." Christ rising from the dead wouldn't have meant much if he'd died of pneumonia, after all, and his death on the cross wouldn't be particularly note-worthy if he hadn't been raised from the dead. The Romans, after all, were quite good at crucifying people, mostly because they practiced so much.
But it did happen that way, and so we sing. We sing because God has conquered death--not that he couldn't before but that he hadn't shown us. More than that, God has conquered death for us. And for Mary, who had started down this road because an angel essentially talked her into it, this really is the light at the end of the tunnel. I imagine that she'd been worried sick for three straight years. Never mind the strange beginning, he'd been doing things and saying things that were obviously dangerous for a long time. Her worst fears were realized and then relieved. But what if the hymn is talking about Mary Magdalene? The man who'd delivered her from a living death (legend has it she had been the victim of possession) had been murdered and he was alive. Raise your weary eyelids, Mary, indeed. I suppose if I wanted to I could find out who the hymn is about--but why spoil it? It's really about us. Look up, dear. Stop crying dear. Breathe dear.
Did you notice in Church today that it was a woman who found the empty tomb? It was a woman who stayed around long enough to be the first to see the risen Christ. The ones who stuck around during the crucifixion were women. The men scattered. The women stayed. The men were around when it was all about power and glory. The women tended to Christ through and after his death---even if only through their presence.
But it did happen that way, and so we sing. We sing because God has conquered death--not that he couldn't before but that he hadn't shown us. More than that, God has conquered death for us. And for Mary, who had started down this road because an angel essentially talked her into it, this really is the light at the end of the tunnel. I imagine that she'd been worried sick for three straight years. Never mind the strange beginning, he'd been doing things and saying things that were obviously dangerous for a long time. Her worst fears were realized and then relieved. But what if the hymn is talking about Mary Magdalene? The man who'd delivered her from a living death (legend has it she had been the victim of possession) had been murdered and he was alive. Raise your weary eyelids, Mary, indeed. I suppose if I wanted to I could find out who the hymn is about--but why spoil it? It's really about us. Look up, dear. Stop crying dear. Breathe dear.
Did you notice in Church today that it was a woman who found the empty tomb? It was a woman who stayed around long enough to be the first to see the risen Christ. The ones who stuck around during the crucifixion were women. The men scattered. The women stayed. The men were around when it was all about power and glory. The women tended to Christ through and after his death---even if only through their presence.
"Life is yours forever, Mary, for your light is come once more and the strength of death is broken; now your songs of joy out pour. End now the night of sorrow, love has brought the blessed morrow. Let your alleluias rise!"
Have a blessed Easter everybody... try not to over indulge on the chocolate and eat the ears first.
Have a blessed Easter everybody... try not to over indulge on the chocolate and eat the ears first.
No comments:
Post a Comment