Passover and Easter

Sometimes the world seems to have gone mad. Terrorists threaten the lives of innocent people; fanatics with explosives strapped to their waists blow themselves to pieces, killing as many bystanders as possible; Muslims and Hindus are at one another’s throats in India and each side fears mortal mayhem; 150 thousand residents of Swaziland may starve to death; children all over the earth face abuse from adults, even those they trust most.

These are only a few items from a catalogue of evils menacing members of the human family. Newspapers, radio, and television each day report yet more violence unleashed against people in every nation of the world. For altogether too many of us, the world is a place dangerous to body and soul.

In the face of such evils, realistically minded people have little reason for optimism. It is hard to believe that things are going to get better; instead, evidence suggests they may well get worse. Fearful weapons, if let loose, could destroy civilization; the fabric of the earth could be mortally wounded if the environment suffers further damage. If there ever was a good time to be an optimist it surely is not now.

However, despite this grim recital, there is reason for hope. By contrast with optimism, hope goes beyond the evidence and expects good things to happen. Hope springs eternal, the old saying goes, because it comes from something deep inside the human heart. We keep wanting things to turn out well, even when it looks as if they cannot.

Passover and Easter, the most important Jewish and Christian feasts, are all about hope. These celebrations confirm our human instinct to want things to turn out well. They are built on hope and summon people in the community of faith to deepen hope and to live by it. Their central theme is that God can do what human beings cannot.

Passover focuses on the Hebrew people’s rescue from slavery in Egypt and deliverance into the Promised Land. Moses is the leader who pushes his people through the desert and tries to keep up their spirits despite disappointments and frustrations. He does not allow the complaints of the people he leads to turn him away from his God-given mission.

Through the centuries the Jewish people continue to celebrate this great deliverance and arrival. Through the Seder meal, they recognize ritually the great love that God has for them, love that sets them free. Each year the great events are recalled and made present with all their spiritual challenges.

Though not myself a member of that faith community, I will have the privilege of talking part in the Seder again this year, thanks to an invitation from a much valued friend. I will sit down with members of his family and other friends as our host leads us in the prayers and ritual meal that calls us all to stir up our hope in God.

Similarly, when I gather with members of my own family and other friends this Easter day, we will be celebrating hope.  All seemed lost for us, too; Jesus suffered the worst kind of death; the disciples were scattered and depressed. But the Lord’s rising from the dead brought hope alive and gave believers in him cause for rejoicing.

Both Passover and Easter celebrate a passage from death to life. Each of them calls community members themselves to pass from slavery into freedom so as to live hopefully as the children of God.

These two feasts are much more subtle than Christmas and Hanukkah. These rites of spring are summons to maturity, to living as adults seizing the liberties belonging to those who have grown in faith. Entering into each passing over, that from the desert to the promised Land and that from Good Friday to Easter Sunday, calls for spiritual transformation. Fully accepted, these invitations can transform us into people who live by hope.

The world does not look at all promising. But two great faith traditions assure us that God is greater than the world. The data suggest that the world will continue to experience disaster as human beings prey on one another. But when believers pray to the God of hope, we can go far beyond mere human calculation.

Richard Griffin