Easter is now closely associated with the central doctrine of Christianity, the crucifixion and resurrection of Christ, but of course, this celebration of new life goes back to a time long before the advent of the Christian religion. Easter was originally a pagan festival celebrating the spring solstice. The name itself comes from the Old English word ēastre, which is of Germanic origin, and relates to the German word Ostern (east). It is thought to derive from Ēastre, the name of a goddess who was associated with the spring and who was celebrated each April with feasting.
Early Christians assimilated pagan festivals, and Easter, centred as it was on new life, fertility and the triumph of surviving another winter, was perhaps the greatest of them. Feasting in honour of the goddess was replaced by the Paschal month. However, many of the rituals, symbols and activities which characterised these pagan festivals were retained by the Christians and repurposed. The result is that in many cases, it is very hard to tell where the pagan ritual ends and the Christian one begins. In my view this is a good thing. The gradual evolution of these ideas and practices means that no one faith group or tradition can claim exclusive ownership over a celebration like Easter.
Every faith, culture and philosophical tradition is built on what came before it and heavily influenced by the cultures surrounding it. And so, while contemporary cultures and world-views have their distinctive features and flavours, there are some traditions that are so ancient and so widely shared across a region or even globally, that no-one can claim them as exclusively their own. Easter, I would argue, is one of these. It is after all, at heart, a celebration of the spring, a time of great significance to all of us. This is especially true for agricultural societies and those living in rural communities but all of us who are living in post-industrial, urban societies rely on the seasons and on agriculture as much as we ever did, even while we are somewhat removed from them, and it would do us good to be more mindful of that.
I must, therefore, disagree with those Christians and Neo-Pagans who claim Easter is really their festival and complain that it has been stolen and sullied by others. I must also disagree with nonreligious people who say we should boycott Easter because it is about outdated dogma and superstitious belief. Instead, everyone may claim ownership of Easter if they so wish, and celebrate it in a way that befits their beliefs and values. We might like to create our own family or community Easter traditions, continuing the natural evolution of its associated ideas and practices. The emphasis of Easter is, after all, on a universally human experience, that of renewal, which is also shared by most other living things. The history of Easter spans so much space and time that for many of us, it is an irrevocable part of our cultural inheritance whether we believe in supernatural beings like Ēastre or Christ or not. Rather than fight against this heritage because of elements we might not like, I prefer to embrace Easter and make it my own.
For many secular people, and I would argue almost every child in existence, Easter is about chocolate eggs and rabbits. These things are wonderfully symbolic of new life, even if they have been overly commercialised and appear in the shops much too early (some of the worst offenders have them in store straight after Christmas!). However, Easter can (and perhaps should) be about much more than the worship, albeit understandable, of chocolate. It is a celebration of life. What could be more profound than that?
Life is a very difficult thing to define. Indeed, there is currently no consensus when it comes to a definition. A popular definition is that a living thing is an organism composed of cells, which has open systems for maintaining homeostasis, a life cycle, and the ability to undergo metabolism, grow, adapt to its environment, respond to stimuli, reproduce and evolve. Other definitions include non-cellular life forms such as viruses and viroids. Interestingly, the vagueness surrounding ‘life’, makes death difficult to define as well. I tend to think all this vagueness is a good thing. It allows room for creative thinking and variation. We instinctively identify with life and death in both the physical and metaphorical senses but we do so in very different ways, depending on the culture within which we were raised. So, for example, some peoples view death as the moment the body stops working in the ways listed above, while others view it as the point at which there is no one left alive who remembers you.
Another result of the mysteriousness of this quality we call ‘life’ is that other concepts like renewal, rebirth and resurrection have a wide variety of interpretations as well. While there are many experiences of renewal we have in common, each individual’s ‘journey’ and perception of renewal is unique. Easter presents an ideal opportunity to reflect on one’s own path, where one has been and where one hopes to go. The emphasis on renewal at Easter has always had a special personal significance for me because my name, Anastasia, which comes from the Greek work anástasis (ἀνάστασις), means resurrection – coming back to life as so many plants are doing at this time of year – and I have certainly had a number of personal ‘resurrections’. Easter has always reminded me to reflect on my name, a name that resonates with courage, and to draw upon that courage for whatever challenges I happen to be facing.
Many of us have moments in life (moments which could be as short as a second or as long as a year) that are so significant that they amount to a ‘resurrection’, where we are in a metaphorical sense, reborn. These might include the moment when we discover our vocation, a moment of conversion to (or from) a faith, the moment we realise we have found our life-partner, the moment we discover the place or people to whom we can belong, a moment where we turn the corner of recovery during an illness (or re-create our identity and purpose after a life-changing illness or injury), the moment where our activism bears fruit and liberation and justice is achieved, or lightbulb moments where a veil of ignorance or delusion is lifted and we see reality more clearly…
For myself, the Lenten period has been a useful time to reflect on my own ‘journey’ thus far, and on the growth that comes from even the most difficult of experiences. It is only fitting to work through one’s most painful (often buried) emotions in the run up to Easter’s resounding celebration of healing and wellness. On the 5th of April it was Golden Rule Day, the Golden Rule being of course the universal principle of treating others the way that we want to be treated. Just like Easter, the Golden Rule is ancient and modern, secular and religious, personal and common, going back as it does to ancient philosophy. Like Easter, it long predates Christianity and in various formulations it has featured in human thought and value-systems the world over. The Golden Rule is “a powerful tool for all of our relationships – with ourselves, others, animals, and the planet.” (Charter for Compassion) Golden Rule Day proved to be a useful calendar marker in the run up to Easter, encouraging us to think and reflect on our key aspirations. My children and I made rainbows to symbolise these – reason, kindness, courage, hope and diversity.
Special days and festivals like Easter, with their associated ideas and rituals, can be powerful tools for reflection, remembrance and positive change. They are reminders of what is most important to us, and those which like Easter, correspond to the recurring rhythms of nature, reconnect us with the natural world of which we are a part.
This Easter we will be enjoying the usual egg hunts, chocolate worship and family feasting but we will also be reflecting on what it means to be truly alive, and on how we might live our lives more fully. At the same time, we will be letting go, and allowing the healing spring sunshine, singing birds and colourful blooms warm and revive our winter-weary bodies and minds. We humans experience the world through only five finite senses, so let’s make the most of them! Below is a list I made of the things that make me feel most alive. I will be reflecting on it this Easter and discussing with my family how we can experience more of these things more often.
How will you be spending your Easter? Do share your cultural and family traditions in the comments section below.
Things that make me feel alive:
- Human connection – good conversation, mutual understanding, belonging, cuddles and kisses with my children;
- Nature – a glorious land or seascape, feeling the elements against my skin, birdsong, savouring food that’s fresh from the earth, smelling the spring flowers and herbs, re-discovering my oneness with the natural world and thus transcending the ‘self’;
- Movement – dance, travel (going for a walk counts) and taking action – doing the right thing even when it’s hard or scary;
- Reflection – frequent moments of stillness and quiet;
- Art – creating and appreciating beauty in music, art and literature;
- Learning and growth – intellectual discovery and growth in wisdom, empathy, understanding and character;
- Vocation – a service and passion which makes a positive difference to society and to individual’s lives; being able to use one’s mind, hands and voice to influence the world for the better;
- The small things – mindfulness and enjoyment of the small things in life: “raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettle and warm woollen mittens” and so forth;
- Cultural heritage – objects, rituals, customs, sayings, stories and memories, the things that connect me to my family, my people, my ancestors and more generally, to our common human past. Again, these help us to transcend the ‘self’, as we see we are part of something much greater.
Secular Liturgies 