Easter was never a big holiday when I was growing up, most likely because my mother raised me and she was not fond of her religion. Quite different from my father’s family, my grandmother was a devout Catholic. I was spared Catholic school and a religious upbringing though Catholic school most likely would have made me smarter and a religious upbringing most likely would have made me less tolerant of any religion. I have nothing against religion, mind you, and I respect the history of religion but I prefer to probe history rather than to just accept what the ancients tell me is the truth of it. I like to come to my own decisions about who is the true Lord and what exactly is ‘the Lord’ and can there be more than one God? I think all religions serve a purpose and there isn’t a Church I don’t like, I find them beautiful. But bottom line, when one is in touch with their spirituality they must seek their own truth about it and acknowledge their own experience of discovering the ‘soul of being’.
Well, enough about the meanings and consequences of Jesus’ last supper and his resurrection, let’s have dinner. Religious holidays are such great excuses for a dinner party, dinner parties on a grand scale. One can put all kinds of meaning into eating and celebrating with friends and family. I like the social ritual of dining, of conversing. Laughter is never far when friends get together and we are breaking bread together, but behind the laughter and the wine there is the spirit of caring, the joy of sharing. There is something deeply religious to me about what we human beings have created for ourselves on Earth. I could go to a beautiful house and get down on my knees and whisper ‘thank you’ for unity and for the goodness of ‘us.’
