It was one thing for the ground to be white when we woke up on April Fools Day. It was another for the same thing to happen two days later. It was enough to make one wonder if spring is coming at all.
Still, on Sunday, the snow melted quickly. By early afternoon, the first lily shoots could be seen again. The daffodils decided to shoot up. The sun was warm enough to sit outside, with a good warm coat on. Sitting and enjoying the warmth I could see weeds just waiting to be pulled.
The Weather Network has been warning that this April is going to be unsettled, that we will get some warm weather but it won't be sustained. Maybe that means that the pussy willows will stay with their fluffy white catkins for a while. If that is the case, however, the lilacs and forsythia will stay brown and bare.
One of the readings assigned for last Sunday comes from Isaiah. God said, "Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old. I am about to do a new thing. Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?" (Isaiah 43: 18-19 NRSV) At the time, the people were in exile, and Jerusalem was in ruins. This new thing could not be seen. But it could be sensed. Babylon's power was no longer absolute, and it seemed Persia might have a different style of governance, at least with respect to the Jewish people. The hints that a return home might be possible were there.
The message that empire does not have the last word is helpful to hear as we head toward Easter. That first Easter, through Pilot, Rome seemed to win. Jesus was crucified, died as a traitor. But on the morning of the third day, the tomb was empty, and Jesus' followers experienced his new life. They began to be transformed.
This is also a good message to hear in this moment of history. We are trying to figure out how to renew our lives after two years of pandemic restrictions. We are wondering how the war in Ukraine will cease, how the country will rebuild, what the leadership of Russia will do next. It is a hard time to feel hopeful. The signs of new life are not clearly visible.
I have often said that when the apostle Paul wanted his people to understand the nature of resurrection, he pointed to the cycle of the seasons. A grain of wheat is planted. It swells, sends down roots, sprouts green leaves. In time, seeds form and ripen. So it is with the resurrection. The life we know is not the life that will be, but it is as inevitable as spring growth.
But did you notice that I said that after the first Easter the disciples began to be transformed. They were not different people overnight. They had to grow into this new knowledge, this new experience. Change for the better is not as inevitable as spring.
Peace is not as inevitable as the daffodils in my garden. I think there is an energy for good in the world, but the road blocks people like the Russian leadership put up are also real. It takes work to build peace. The world and each of us need to be attentive to the good we dream of.
Daffodils are pretty inevitable. But the garden as a whole needs attention. Tulips may come back, or they may feed the squirrels. Annual plants need water. The whole garden needs nourishment. There is an energy of life at work, but we have to see the challenges as well. We have to notice when there is not enough moisture. Only when we approach with eyes open and a willingness to work, will the garden flourish.
It was good of Isaiah to announce on God's behalf that God was "about to do a new thing. Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?" We need to believe in that energy of new life or we won't even try. But the work that awaits is as real as that energy. The dream won't come without us.
Cathy Hird lives on the traditional territory of the Saugeen Ojibway Nation
