I found myself wondering recently where, when and how the Easter Bunny and Easter Eggs got into the traditional celebrations of Easter.
Easter
Well, believe it or not we’re entering pagan territory here – long before the Catholic monopoly on all things paschal. The word Easter or Ēostre is derived from the name of an Anglo-Saxon goddess who was celebrated through the month of April. Pasqua or paschalis is the Latin name for the passover – a Jewish feast harking back to the times of the Hebrew enslavement in Egypt and their liberation by Charlton Heston. The actual dates for Easter were set in the Catholic religion in AD 325. In Nicea they established that the feast should fall on the Sunday following the paschal full moon, which is the full moon that falls on or after the vernal (spring) equinox.
It’s the rites of spring in full swing. Whether it’s Eostre or the paschal full moon, there is no doubt that the religious rituals are guaranteed to be celebrated as they have been from the dawn of time – a celebration of the beginning of the season of Spring – a season associated with life, birth and the renewal of the circle of life. In the Christian religion the main potent symbol is that of Christ defeating death through resurrection with the concurrent ideas of redemption. Easter Sunday is the time for the triumph over death as the Christ Resurrected is carried aloft running through the streets in a frenzy of happiness.
It was curious to see the initiative to replay the passion of Christ out in the open within the temples at Mnajdra. I don’t know whether it was intentional or whether the irony was lost on the participants (markbiwwa did not miss that one) but Mnajdra would in all probability have een used in religious rituals celebrating the arrival of spring many many thousand moons before the birth and death of the Christian saviour. Back in Luxembourg the ancient ritual of burning pyres of wood to celebrate the end of winter is still performed (it was on about a month ago) only that they have taken to burning a crucifix on top of the pyre, what with Luxembourg being a deeply religious country. Another instance of religious stepping in to eclipse the profane?
What about the Easter Bunny and Egg then? Where do they come in? Well it turns out it is rather simple after all. Bunnies and Eggs both represent the same thing – fertility. We all know what the rabbit is and though it itself is not oviparous it is evident why it would be chosen as a symbol of copious reproduction. As for the egg – what can I say – it is the epitome of symbols for potential of birth.
Birth
Yes. No matter what culture and where in the world, humanity has always celebrated spring and life. It is within our nature and instinct as a sentient being to not only celebrate our existence but also the preservation of our species via its reproduction. The Catholic Churhc – as from 325 AD – could not ignore this urge to celebrate life and had no choice but to place the feast of its saviour’s resurrection bang in the middle of what had always been the period of such celebration in other cultures.
Which is why the Bishop of Gozo’s attack on IVF and the hope it brings to hundreds of thousands of couples worldwide is either a purposely ill-timed approach or an extraordinary demonstration of crass insensitivity. There is no other way to react to this kind of statement y even the most conservative among the Good Shepherd’s flock than with sincere disbelief. In a time when we are supposed to celebrate the victory of life over death of the productive over the barren and of providence instead of the bare we are wrongly directed at killing the supposed wolves among the flock whose sin is that of bringing the same hope as that shared by Sara and Abraham until the arrival of Isaac. You get the feeling that even in the reading of texts that are sacred to them there is an intentional misogyny that underlies the basic thinking – going against all natural instincts and inspirations.
Fields
Malta is beautiful at this time. I spend Good Friday in what us ignorant people call “the south”. Ghar Lapsi was idyllic and Rita’s retro service was legendary (I’d have stuck to the pyrex plates though). Driving through the back roads leading to Zejtun and detouring through Birzebbuga and Marsacala you get to appreciate the natural beauties that this island has to offer while also getting to sadly see how mistaken many a man can be when he tries to interpret what could look good and be added on to the landscape.
Life. It’s a long stretch of time (hopefully) on this world that is pregnant with choices. It’s good to remember every now and then that we are not a small and beautiful snowflake.
