Schools and businesses close early this weekend. What else isn’t happening? And what is, during these days when so many pause for a religious celebration?
This celebration: it is operatic in its length and spectacle, spanning days, shifting venues, and covering a range of emotions. For some the story is familiar, to the point of almost losing its edge. By some, it is acknowledged in broad strokes. To some, it seems implausible.
The celebration causes a shift in this weekend’s rhythms–lighter traffic, special foods, extra services–which nudges us to go back, to remember. We consider each of the events, resist an over-simplified synthesis. We are immersed in agony, ecstasy–then, now; in our own spheres, in what others experience.
The detail–the staging, script, sense, and sensibility–is crucial. It also propels us into an even larger story. For incarnation, crucifixion, resurrection–what we celebrate each Easter–makes atonement possible. And this (with its ties to and provision of freedom, forgiveness, reconciliation, and relationship) redounds to the glory of God.