I love the religious syncretism which abounds at this time of year-the mixing and merging of rituals and observances from a variety of cultural and religious traditions into one beautiful, messy, sometimes confusing Easter celebration of rebirth, rejuvenation, resurrection, and the coming of Spring. David Sedaris' essay, "Jesus Shaves," makes light of the confusion this mixing and merging brings, not only for a Muslim from a country where Easter is unknown, but even for Christians who've celebrated Easter their entire lives. Is it about Jesus on the cross? Or a great family meal? Or a rabbit delivering candy and eggs? Or a flying bell? The Rev. Carl Seaburg says that in every country to which Christianity spread, "it found that the inhabitants already were holding festivals and rituals marking the Spring season. Many of the local customs in time were grafted onto the Christian celebration [of Easter]."¹ That is religious syncretism: the layering of different religious and cultural practices on top of one another such that, after centuries of blending, the dividing lines disappear. I enjoy picking these syncretisms apart. As I begin to see the various components that make up a holiday like Easter, I feel affirmed in the Unitarian Universalist insight that there is more than one path to the sacred; and quite often we find ourselves traversing multiple paths in the midst of a single celebration. To anyone who argues that Easter, Passover, or any Pagan celebration of the Vernal Equinox are pure and simple observances that speak one truth, I invite you to look more closely; go exploring; discern the ancient planting calendar embedded in Passover; discover the Celtic and Teutonic influences in Easter; find evidence of rebirth, rejuvenation, and resurrection literally everywhere. Easter is not only Easter. Passover is not only Passover. Resurrection is not only about Jesus on the cross.

Easter is the dominant Spring-time religious celebration in our society. It occurs on the first Sunday following the first full moon following the vernal equinox, a practice which dates back to the Council of Nicea in 325 A.D. Before then, Easter was not a spring-time celebration. It was a weekly celebration. For a variety of reasons, the Council of Nicea made it an annual celebration.

Of course it was not called Easter at that time. The Christian world originally used the Greek word Pascha to name the celebration of Jesus' resurrection. Pascha is the Greek word for Passover, the Jewish spring-time celebration of liberation from slavery in Egypt. This reminds me that Christianity was originally a Jewish movement. Just before his crucifixion Jesus and his disciples ate their famous last supper. They were Jews, practicing the Jewish tradition of Passover, celebrating a seder, telling, we presume, the Haggadah, the story of the Jewish Exodus from Egypt. For Jesus and his followers, Passover was already an ancient tradition, but also one that was and still is a syncretism of even more ancient traditions. Passover's roots lie in an ancient planting festival. On the second day of Passover seven weeks of counting are initiated ending with Shavuot, the celebration of the harvest of the first grain. Shavuot happens fifty days after Passover begins. It is thus also known as Pentecost, and yet Pentecost is more commonly known as a Chrsitian holy day, commemorating Jesus' ascension into Heaven. The commemoration of Jesus' ascension was originally a Jewish spring-harvest festival.

Pascha became Easter as Christianity spread into northern Europe and the Christian celebration of the resurrection of Jesus mingled with the Celtic celebration of the arrival of Spring, known as Ostara. Ostara-or Eostre-is also an ancient Teutonic Lunar Goddess whose two primary symbols are rabbits and eggs. We often assume Easter eggs and bunnies are modern inventions of the holiday industry. Not true: eggs and rabbits pre-date Christianity as symbols of fertility and Spring. Yet, here they are on TV specials and supermarket promotions, delivering Easter baskets full of jelly beans and other candy to our children, accompanying us as we approach the Christian holiday formerly known as Pascha, formerly known as the celebration of the Jewish Exodus, formerly known as the time of the first planting. Images and ideas and traditions and stories merge together very easily in spring-time, but at the oldest and deepest layers, at the most remote strata of all these ancient stories is a fundamental, undeniable truth: the renewal of the earth-an incredibly powerful, even magical process which happens reliably at this time of year in this part of the world. Spring is upon us!

When I think of Easter's symbols I think of the cross and the egg. On one hand we have the cross, two intersecting straight lines, the symbol of Christianity, a direct reference to death and resurrection. On the other hand we have the egg, an oval shape, an ancient Pagan symbol not only of fertility but of the original unity of creation. Despite their spring-time co-existence, the cross and the egg emerge from vastly different religious world-views. Until a few hundred years ago, these world-views were in deep, open conflict. The power of the more ancient egg cultures waned as the power of the cross cultures increased. The triumph of cross cultures over egg cultures has shaped our lives, influenced the way we experience the world, the way we think, the way we understand past, present, and future. I believe it is important to know the difference between these two world-views, not only because it helps us better understand what lies at the heart of our celebration of spring, but it also helps us understand the syncretism within our own religious world-views. As I speak about these two world-views, I invite you to ask yourself which one applies to you more. I could ask you, are you more a cross person or an egg person? This might sound like I'm asking if you're more Christian or Pagan, which I'm not. I'm speaking about a way of viewing the world and our place in it, rather than a particular theology. It occurs to me that each of these world-views has a kind of geometry to it. They each have a shape. And the shape is actually more significant to me than any theology or doctrine that might get associated with it. So, instead of cross people, I will refer to line people. Instead of egg people, I will refer to oval people. You'll see what I mean.

Line people people believe in and search for a promised land. There's a moment in the Bible when they first appear, long before Jesus. Genesis 12: 1-2. "Now the Lord said to Abram, 'Go from your country and your kindred and your father's house to the land that I will show you. I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing.'" This is the Abrahamic promise, the first time God promises land to the children of Israel. Up until this point in the Bible, there is no divine promise. But everything in the Jewish scriptures from this point on is a history of the Jewish people written to explain their movement toward and eventually into the promised land. This history is written in such a way that it has a direction. It is going somewhere. It is linear. In Exodus, when the Israelites are fleeing Pharaoh across the Red Sea and then wandering in the wilderness-the event Jews commemorate during Passover, which in Greek is Pascha, which is also Easter-they are looking for the promised land.

Christianity adapted this world-view. It changed the recipients of the promise from Jews to Christians. It spiritualized the promise by moving the promised land from earth to Heaven. Jesus' death and resurrection, which Easter commemorates, is the justification of this spiritualized view of history leading towards fullfillment of a heavenly promise. The doctrinal lesson of Easter is that all who believe in Jesus' resurrection will have eternal life. But history must still move in the proper direction so that those who believe will actually get there. The Chrsitian scriptures therefore provide a history of the future-a prophecy. In this future history, the Anti-Christ will emerge, Jesus will return to challenge the Anti-Christ, and a great war will bring about the end of history. All those past and present who have faith in the resurrection will live in the spiritual promised land with God and Jesus for eternity. For more information see the book of Revelations. For line people, history is going somewhere, it is linear, bringing us to the promised land, whether on earth or in heaven.

Many liberal Christians and Unitarian Universalists don't put the same emphasis on the resurrection and the end times, but we still accept a linear view of history. The 19^th-century Unitarian minister and abolitionist, Theodore Parker, once said "the arc of the universe is long but it bends towards justice." The twentieth century Unitarian theologian, James Luther Adams, claimed that an attitude of optimism in human affairs is justified. He felt that history was leading to a better place, a place of freedom, peace, and justice. And isn't it true that we care about freedom, peace, and justice in this congregation? Don't we believe that by our enagement in the world we can create change in the direction of freedom, peace and justice? We may not think of it as the promised land, but we believe some better place is out ahead of us and our engagement matters. This is a future-oriented and hope-filled world-view. For line people the past is certainly important, but the future is the focus. The celebration of spring revitalizes their faith that history is leading towards a promised land. Spring's rejuvenation reminds us of all for which we are hopeful.

What about oval people? What if your world-view takes its deepest cues not from a symbol or story of future promise, but from the less familiar Cosmic Egg, symbol of creation and fertility? The egg shows up in many ancient creation myths from around the globe. In the beginning-in the primordium-there is a cosmic unity.² All is connected. Sometimes the unity is an egg. Sometimes it's an amorphous mass. Sometimes it's two merged beings known as the "world-parents." It depends on the culture. However it is described, the unity is perfection: No sickness. No death. No aging. No passage of time. It's the Garden of Eden, the mythological paradise, the place of innocence. And then comes a rupture. The earth, life, gods and goddesses, suffering, death, the passage of time all begin with a rupture of the cosmic unity. The egg is split in two. Sometimes a great fire separates heaven from earth. The rupture unleashes great creative energy, and life begins. As I've mentioned before from this pulpit, postmodern or quantum physics and theories of the big bang have begun to show that this view of creation, when cast in scientific terms, is highly plausible.

For oval people, the life resulting from rupture does not then move through time towards a promised land. The promised land is behind them in the primordial paradise. Life isn't moving through time at all. Life is cycling around through the seasons, through the wheel of the year. Time is not linear, but circular. The goal of religion is not to herald the end of history, but to honor the gifts of creation, to celebrate the turning of the seasons, the passing of the year, the planting, the harvest, the dormant time. The symbols that resonate most deeply with oval people are symbols of fertility, creativity; symbols that tie them to the earth and its gifts, to the ancestors. Their gods and goddesses tend to be like the earth and its features, moody and unpredictable. We cannot be certain the deities will bring back the sun. We cannot be certain the deities will bless the harvest. Therefore, we must give thanks and praise, our rituals and celebrations aimed not at future hopes and dreams, but towards survival, sustenance, a bountiful harvest, rich and meaningful living, and strengthening community. To go back to paradise would require the same great rupture, the same great cosmic fire. If that were to happen, life as we know it would come to an end. We must avoid that at all costs. Therefore, let us engage in practices that prevent the great rupture, that sustain the earth, please the gods and goddesses, and keep us cycling safely through the wheel of the year. If you're an oval person, then Spring should be a time when images of rebirth, rejuvenation, and resurrection remind you of the natural cycles of life, the gifts of the earth, and your humble place in it. Spring should be a time to celebrate creativity, to engage in rituals of fertility, to engage in planting.

This is an ancient world-view, more ancient than that of the line people. It is a world-view intimately tied to the land. In so many ways we have lost our connection to the earth and the cycles of life. Modernity has done this to us. Focusing on the future has done this to us. We have much to gain by going back to the great myths of our lives and discerning the truths they recommend to us. We have much to gain by embracing, at least for a time, the wisdom of the ancients, the creativity of the egg. We have much to gain by linking ourselves back to the earth and the cycles of life.

Spring is upon us. As this great mish-mash of syncretized religious celebration approaches, as the Easter bunny comes hopping along, as you color and paint eggs, as you sit with family enjoying a hearty meal, my prayer for each of us is that we may notice the power of each of these world-views breaking into our lives. May we discover in spring all that gives us hope for a future of freedom, peace, and justice, and may we discover in spring all that calls us back to that ancient way of life where creativity, connection, and community matter immensely. Amen. Blessed Be.