At the Tenenbrae Service at First Pres Berkeley yesterday, one of the seven extinguished candles represented "The Shadow of an Unshared Vigil."
Psalm 22:11 - "Do not be far from me, for trouble is near and there is no one to help."
The Passion History recounted the story of how the Disciples fell asleep while Jesus was praying at the Mount of Olives just before his betrayal.
All of this caused me to think about the crushing feeling of loneliness. Of recognizing that you're alone in making certain decisions, deserted in times of struggle, or abandoned by the people you thought you trusted most. I am blown away by the humanity in these passages. Comforted by the fact that the Apostles wrote that their Teacher, and Lord, experienced these same feelings, for us, on the deepest possible level. I am also astounded by the humility in recording such blunders.
On a more lighthearted Easter note, I've been recalling some key Easter moments from my childhood. I remember winning the peculiarly violent Orthodox Easter Egg Super Smash Extravaganza at my Uncle Nicky's house one year. Greeks dye all their eggs deep blood red. The symbolism is potent, but as a kid I imagine I would have regretted the lack of creative PAAS opportunity. Fortunately for me, I'm half-WASP and benefitted from years of vinegar-y multicolored ova.
Anyway, after creating an army of bloody hard-boiled eggs, Greek kids play an awesome game wherein you hold your egg and hit the bottom of your egg on the top of an egg that your cousin or yia-yia is holding. Typically, one egg cracks and the other stays strong. After a thorough round of egg bashing, one egg emerges the unscathed victor. It's extremely exciting to win and an all around fabulous supplement to the also bloodthirsty and more typically American Easter Egg hunts.
My other formative Easter memory was one fateful Easter morning when my little sister got to wear my favorite dress. This was a styling flowery dress I had outgrown but adored in previous years. Once she put it on I couldn't bear to see my dress sported by another. In bitter revenge I poured my cup of breakfast orange juice over her head and all over MY dress. She was forced to wear something else which was precisely my desired outcome. Mission accomplished. The Easter pictures we have from that year are, in retrospect, pretty hilarious since you can tell that I've just gotten myself in deep trouble.
Perhaps by tomorrow there will be additional Easter drama and exhiliration. WTTW, watch out for me and my OJ on Easter morn.