I’m no theologian. Just ask my many priest friends. In fact, I’m one of those who can quote the Bible – in theory, not verse – because despite the many tries of my Episcopalian (but Baptist raised) mother who attempted to teach us the song for the books of the Bible (yes, in order) I never quite ‘got it.’ I still find myself using the Table of Contents to see which comes first – Daniel or Ezekiel. And can never quite quote chapter and verse, unless it’s something I had to memorize, like for instance John 3:16. Suffice to say, however, that the Spirit of years of teachings lives on in my daily life.

Each year I come to Easter with the full story (all versions) of Jesus’ death and resurrection fully occupying my mind and heart. I’ve become accustomed to asking myself: “In what ways am I dying and being reborn?” It’s become a critical exercise to me, particularly in years like this when I have lost so many of those I love dearly to literal death, along with other countless victims of this world’s violence. I hold visions in my mind of these cherished ones being clothed in glory… in garments not of this world but the boundless energy and joy of life everlasting. And while I am in no hurry to ‘join’ them right now, I am at peace that they are shining in ‘light perpetual.’

But the question goes with me as I contemplate the new life that spring brings. What in my life am I ‘dying to’… letting go of, ending, putting away. And what will be reborn in a new form in its place. I begin this Easter day by continuing to live in the question.