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The True Citizen, Wednesday, April 13, 2022 — Page 5
Ronda Rich
EASTER 2022
Fr. Larry Jesion
LARRY'S LENTEN JOURNEY (HOLY WEEK)
When I was seven, I par
ticipated in my first Easter Egg
Hunt. I was in the first grade.
This I remember vividly: it
was the perfect spring day with
an abundance of new green
leaves on the massive oak in
the front of our school house.
The sky was gentle blue. I wore
a pale yellow, cotton dress with
a sash tied in a bow. Mama had
made it and she trimmed the
neck and short, puffed sleeves
with dainty lace.
Grade parents lined up to
watch. They were the moth
ers tasked with bringing the
cupcakes and ice cream for
the party. It was, perhaps,
the day that I learned about
competition and how joyous
it could be.
I did not find the most eggs
but I found one of two prize
eggs. It was pale pink and filled
with tiny candies. I kept it until
I was in the fourth grade when
I was too big for any such.
Besides, that year, I won the
spelling bee and the awarded
book, along with a certificate
for first place, became my new
reminder of the fun of competi
tion. Especially when you win.
The reason I had never been
to an Easter Egg Hunt is be
cause it took a long while for
our mountain people to partici
pate in such frivolous pursuits.
The only holidays celebrated
when my parents were growing
up were Easter and Christmas,
religious holidays for special
worship. They did have pine
Christmas trees, dragged from
the woods, and a church play
starring Mary, Joseph, and
baby Jesus.
Easter was a somber but
happy day. It recognized the
day that Jesus arose from the
grave and declared victory
over death.
But Easter Eggs? No.
It changed with my gen
eration but I lagged behind
because I was a “late in life”
child with all of my siblings
already out of the house by the
time I was six. Too, we lived on
Rural Route One, far out in the
country, so there were no kids
with whom to play.
I suppose we could have had
an Easter Egg Hunt at church
but those mountain people
were much like my parents.
They considered it a bunch of
foolishness. Plus, there were
only four kids who regularly
attended church, at Christmas;
two more kids usually showed
up to be in the Christmas play
and get a gift off the tree—so
it added up to “not much use to
do any such.”
Here I venture a reasonable
guess: my frugal Mama, still
working through the difficul
ties of growing up in the De
pression of the Appalachians,
then suffering through the se
vere food rations of World War
II, wasn’t terrifically interested
in wasting eggs for the sheer
delight of burying them in a
bush or behind a fence post.
To my happiness, she relent
ed when I was in the second
grade. She boiled the eggs,
brought food coloring, and
taught me how to dye them
to the most glorious pastel
shades of yellow, pink, blue
,and green.
But, on the day I left for
school, toting the pink plastic
basket from the dime store, it
came with an instruction.
“Now, bring home all the
eggs you find and I’ll make egg
salad with them. Your daddy
loves egg salad sandwiches.”
On white loaf bread, may
I add.
I grew up, hearing the coun
try people say when
something was im-
pressive, “That’s the RICH,
greatest thing since 6
“We thank you. Father, for
the water of Baptism. In it we
are buried with Christ in his
death. By it we share in his
resurrection. Through it we
are reborn by the Holy Spirit.”
-from the sacrament of Holy
Baptism, Book of Common
Prayer, p. 306
At meetings with colleagues,
we would often center our
group discussions around a
brief statement. One session
that was most memorable
happened when someone said,
“Something needs to die in or
der that something else can be
bom.” At the time I struggled
with this concept. Perhaps I
was taking the statement too
literally.
The example of a pregnant
woman was given to explain
the reasoning. A pregnant
woman is no longer a pregnant
woman once she gives birth
to her child. The pregnant
woman “dies”, and the mother
is “bom”. One ceases to be and
the other begins. This concept
is an interesting lens through
which to view the world, es
pecially when considering that
death and birth are an endless
cycle.
One of the best examples of
the tmth of that statement is of
Holy Baptism. St. Paul tells us
in Romans 6:3-4, “Do you not
know that all of us who have
been baptized into Christ Jesus
were baptized into his death?
Therefore we have been buried
with him by baptism into death,
so that, just as Christ was raised
from the dead by the glory of
the Father, so we too might
walk in newness of life.”
In other words, before we
can be bom again in baptism
and the Holy Spirit, our old
selves, our lives as we knew it,
and our lives of sin must die in
order that we be bom into new
life in Christ Jesus. Our new
lives are thus defined by grace,
forgiveness, and love.
As Lent is winding down,
I am reminded that the early
Christian church only per
formed Holy Baptism on Eas
ter Sunday. The season of Lent
was a time during which those
who were to become members
of the church were prepared for
their baptisms through repen
tance, prayer, and study. As
we approach Easter Sunday, I
rejoice because our small con
gregation will have a baptism
to celebrate this year!
As I write this, I’m reflecting
on how I have lived my life
since my baptism. In thinking
of the cycle of death and life,
have I been living a resurrected
life? Have I truly left my old
life behind and have I em
braced my new life in Christ?
My dear brothers and sisters
in Christ Jesus. May this Eas
ter Sunday, this Resurrection
Sunday not only be a celebra
tion of the Risen Lord, but our
own resurrected lives! Have a
happy and blessed Easter!
WITH A
ROJ
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