Eastertide Eggs

Just before noon, on a Wednesday about six weeks ago, I walked past a downtown Catholic church and noticed an unfamiliar sight for that time of day: Open doors. Then the clues began to piece themselves together in my mind. King cakes at the grocery store, all the churches are open, and-- there it is-- ashes on foreheads. "Today is Ash Wednesday," I said aloud, not as much for my waking companion's benefit, but to help my own realizations, "and that means that yesterday was Mardi Gras, and that means that today is the beginning of Lent."

Lent is an important time for Christians around the world. It begins on Ash Wednesday, which falls forty days before Easter (although I should mention that those forty days exclude Sundays), and ends on Easter Sunday, the high Christian Holy-day that celebrates the resurrection of Jesus.

So Easter is here, Lent is over, and it all came and went so quickly. Did I miss it?  COVID-19 certainly overturned the season's typical traditions, but everything still happened, didn't it? For six weeks now, I've seen clergy wearing purple; last Sunday, the date palms were waving; and jelly beans and Peeps were in the stores as normal. So why do I feel like the season has passed by before I could acknowledge it? And then, once again, clues begin to assemble themselves for me:  It's the Eastertide Eggs. Where are they? I forgot to look.

Easter morning was an amazing experience as a child. Before the morning had grown to afternoon, my parents would hand to each my brother and me an empty Egg-Land's Best carton and tell us that the hunt was on. We each had twelve brightly-colored eggs to find throughout the house, and what a joy that was.

Paul said that when he became a man, he put aside childish ways. Sometime between youth and adulthood, I-- like Paul-- put aside my childish ways; namely, hunting for Easter eggs. I shouldn't have, though. Maybe I don't need to scour the house for candy and eggs, but to stop searching for eggs would be a grave disservice to both myself… and God.

We like to search for Easter eggs. When we find one in a Pixar movie (There is it! A-113) or in a video game, it brings a little joy to the soul. It is finding a small message that not everyone will find.  It's a bit esoteric, and we feel like part of an exclusive group. The Pixar animators left something for their diehard fans to notice, and to find that something carries the same feeling as sharing an inside joke or meeting someone from your hometown.

I wonder if God leaves eggs around for us, maybe even for just you. Not everyone will notice them lying about. They can be so subtle that you nearly miss it--but there it is!-- you found it and can share a wink with God.  It could be a coincidence too improbable to ignore. Previously, I had never thought about the Biblical significance of a fig, but on the very day I do, the grocery store mails me a flyer that figs are on sale. That was a good one, God… a little something just to make me smile. Thank you.

As dawn scatters away the darkness Easter morning, I don't expect to find a dozen rainbow ovoids around the house, but since I've taken the time to reflect back upon this year's Lenten season (which I encourage you, dear reader, to do), I can safely recant my previous statement that Lent has passed me by. As it turns out, I was there the whole time, and if it felt like there were no Eastertide eggs, all I need to do to correct that feeling is to reflect back upon the season, and when I do, I realize that God hid them everywhere. Some were rather obvious, and some were impressively camouflaged, but the truth is that they surrounded me. Those Eastertide eggs-- little ways to connect with God and to find the Divine among the mundane-- they abounded; they were ubiquitous; they were everywhere; and all I had to do was to acknowledge that the hunt had begun.

Friends, regardless of whether my message today was your first exposure to Lent and Easter, or whether you know all the ins and outs, I encourage you to keep your eyes open for Eastertide eggs, and fear not but take courage, for even after Easter Sunday ends, Eastertide and the hunt continues.

Yours,

Ben Lebout