“Whenever I recall that day, I thank the Lord for allowing me to be born.” That is what Nikos Kazanrtzakis, the great Greek writer, wrote of December 9, 1898, the day on which a liberator, Prince George of the Hellenes, landed on the island of Crete bringing freedom to the Greek community there.
Kazantzakis was thirteen years old when that event occurred and, as tells in his memoir, Report to Greco, he remembered it ever after as a supreme day in his life. He also remembered where his father took him that same day.
As he describes it, “My father took me by the hand in the early afternoon. … We passed through the fortified gate and emerged into the open fields. … My father was in a hurry and I had to run to keep up with him.
‘Where are we going, Father?,’ I asked gasping for breath.
‘To see your grandfather. March!’
We reached the graveyard. My father halted at one of the abject graves – – a small mound of rounded earth with a wooden cross. The name had been effaced by time. Removing his kerchief, he fell face downward on the ground, scraped away the soil with his nails and made a little hole in the shape of a megaphone. Into this he inserted his mouth as deeply as he could. Three times he cried out, ‘Father, he came! Father, he came! Father, he came!’
His voice grew louder and louder. Finally he was bellowing. Removing a small bottle of wine from his pocket, he poured it drop by drop into the hole and waited each time for it to go down, for the earth to drink it. Then he bounded to his feet, crossed himself, and looked at me. His eyes were flashing.
‘Did you hear?’ he asked me, his voice hoarse from emotion. ‘Did you hear?’
I remained silent. I had heard nothing.
“Didn’t you hear?’ said my father angrily.
‘His bones rattled.’”
Something of the excitement felt by the father in this story must have characterized the Hebrew people who were liberated from Egypt by God through his servant Moses. That is the event still recalled each year by the feast of Passover, and celebrated once more this past week.
And the early Christians must have experienced this excitement as they celebrated the rising of Jesus from the dead. This Easter event would have been just as real to them as the coming of the liberator to the island of Crete was to Kazantzakis.
Both the Jewish and Christian communities of faith recognize in dramatic acts of liberation the meaning of their existence. For these communities, those actions – – the Passage from Egypt, the Resurrection from the dead – – took place long ago but the reality of the events remains present to them.
These events are the source of present joy and hope for the future. Many members of the Jewish community, in all of its variety, look forward to its fulfillment when the love of God is fully revealed and the lion and the lamb can lie down together in peace.
Many Christians, in their own varieties, look to the day of the Lord’s coming when all is fulfilled in the Kingdom of Heaven. This will be the time of peace and personal fulfillment.
Two weeks ago I took part in a celebration of values shared by the Jewish and Christian communities. The occasion was the 25th anniversary of Facing History and Ourselves, an organization dedicated to education about the meaning of the Holocaust.
I found special pleasure in seeing a life-long friend, Father Robert Bullock, honored for his leadership in Facing History over much of that twenty-five year range. Pastor of Our Lady of Sorrows Catholic Church in Sharon, Massacusetts, Father Bullock has spent much of his ministry in promoting understanding between the Jewish community and the Church.
To me, the festive dinner, attended by some twelve hundred people, was a time to rejoice. On the deepest level of religious faith, we could recognize and embrace both Passover and Easter, the two central mysteries of our two traditions. On the level of community relations, it was a time to celebrate the progress we have made toward peace and understanding.
Richard Griffin