Come Alive (Again): An Easter Sunday Meditation
How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord Almighty!
My soul yearns, even faints, for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God.
Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may have her young—a place near your altar, O Lord Almighty my King and my God.
Blessed are those who dwell in your house; they are ever praising you. Psalm 84:1-4
Group Submission by: Betsy McCray, Holly Smith , and Val Kling
On the morning of the first day of the week, after Jesus' crucifixion, Mary slipped away to his tomb, only to find it empty! She, and the women with her, ran to tell the disciples, who came to see for themselves. From the garden outside the empty tomb to the wider community, disciples and believers and friends of Jesus buzzed with the news: “He is not dead. He is alive!" As Jesus showed himself here and there, deeper understanding of all that He had taught them began to sink into hearts and minds.
The art project got people to talking–both about the project and their lives–as they worked together or near one another. A five-year-old said it was her favorite part of the church retreat, and she beamed as we photographed her beautiful work. A young professional wished we could stay all day, crafting in the sunshine, and wound up staying through two sessions and making several pieces. The group of preteens whooping, hollering and building the teepee forts on the hill in the woods above us seemed to be having the time of their lives.
Someone had the idea of tying our nests on trees, posts and bridges along the walking path. The area began to be transformed by the day’s beauty, and those passing by took note. People worked together to display their artwork, as well as to make a communal nest-like installation closer to where the whole church would soon be gathering for afternoon tea. Scattered sticks and stones were arranged into an appealing pattern that drew one’s eye.
While hunting for materials off of the walking path, a couple of participants found extraordinary animal nests hidden inside the hollow of a dead tree. The enthusiasm was palpable: Our own nest-making had attuned us to the beauty and artful function of the natural nests around us.
What was gained? After the next day’s removal of the already-decomposing art projects and the restoration of natural materials to the environment, the installation disappeared like a sand mandala. Participants, though, told us of their enduring takeaways: fun and fanciful freedom of expression, meditation on and appreciation for the natural world as well as for one’s own ability to add to its beauty, an afternoon’s delight in the woods among friends old and new, and growing awareness of and eyes for seeing more of the created world.
Meaning, meditation and memories will last–and those in themselves are nests, of sorts, for us all.