Always New

Easter is not about the bunny, but if it were, then the bunny would be solid and dark chocolate. This one is not for me, cuz I am too snooty when it comes to chocolate, even in a rabbit shape; it’s for a dear relative who is the family poet. She likes chocolate in many forms but prizes the dark like her Dad. So when he saw a dark and solid bunny, gilded no less, he knew it was hers.

Easter is about new life. This new life becomes realized for us because of one death–the death of a lion/lamb, three days in a grave, and then a resurrection into the life meant to be. The new life requires death, and do not ask me why that is. You may ask any fine philosopher, and they’d perhaps deny it in ignorance. You may ask any fine theologian and they may attempt an answer, or if wise, they would not. As Barth said, “The Word became flesh — and then through theologians, it became words again.” We may think of some reason and attempt a wordy reply to the question, “Why?” but let us dispense with such attempts. New life requires death and I do not know why. No one knows why. It is a mystery.

The beauty in this is that once done, it is both done “once for all”, and then repeated continually in our own lives/deaths/resurrections in a recurring way and always, until presumably, the cycle ends in a final resurrection into an eternal new life. The paradox is that it has happened, is happening, and will happen, all of the time into forever both backward and forward. What a lovely loop is this life anew!

That is all I have to say about it for now, that it is beautiful and lovely.

I will say this about chocolate bunnies, however:

If you have one in your hands, quickly bite off the head first so as to sacrifice it with mercy, and then savor it all slowly over the course of three days, dwelling upon the mystery of the death, burial, and resurrection.