By Susan Lilley
As the official (!) leader of the Episcopagan Church of America, I find that the rites of spring are different every year. Last year, as the post below reveals, I was taking part in some pretty serious ancient rituals, which involved finding the compassion to dive into the darkness of this fallen world and then vanquish it with new fire. A bit exhausting, but worth it.
This year, another kind of ritual–it’s Good Friday and I am walking my dog, reading poetry, clipping free flowers out of my yard, and unwrapping the bunny statuettes and egg candles my mother used to decorate with every Easter. She died in the spring a few years back, and I feel intensely close to her as this holiday approaches. Spring has come and all of nature is singing. But as usual, there is an abundance of fresh, hideous, and discouraging bummers in our world, and I am trying my best to turn the hell away from them this weekend. I need the flowery joy and renewal of spring. And here’s what I was thinking last year . . .