My Impressions on Easter Morning

I have not written about the celebration of Easter this year.  I rose hoping to get some pictures of a glorious sunrise over a body of water in the city I love on a half marathon distance run with lots of time for reflection by myself.  I achieved almost all those goals.  The main thing I did not achieve was the glorious sunrise pictures as the weather did not cooperate.  Instead I got a series of impressionistic pictures of the reflection on Lake Montebello.  Not bad for the morning.  But not capturing the glorious mystery of Easter morning.

However, that did not mean that I didn't have a chance to ponder the meaning.  My run was a good one.  I averaged 8:14 miles.  My route took me around past the post office and the old grocery story, down the Alameda, down Loch Raven, across 33rd, down Old York Rd to Greenmount, down to 25th, across 25th to Harford, up to Hillen, around Lake, up Hillen, and returning to where I began.  Areas of the city past many churches.  Not many areas that are in really bad condition, but many reminders that not everyone in Baltimore is as comfortable as I am.   

The reason I run a half marathon on Easter morning actually ties in with the Biblical text.  There were two disciples who were on the road to Emmaus who met a stranger, continued the walk with the stranger, and ate a meal with the stranger.  As the story goes, the stranger turned out to be Jesus, whom they disciples recognized because of his actions.  Being recognizable because of the consistency and integrity of my actions is something I always aspire to. The relationship to a half marathon is that some scholars estimate that the distance from Jerusalem to Emmaus was about 1/4 of a marathon.  After the disciples recognized Jesus, the story goes that he disappeared and they disciples ran back to Jerusalem. So, I figure if they went a half marathon between the walk and run, I can run a  half marathon to reflect on what went on.  

Of course, Easter Sunday only happened because of the crucifixion on Good Friday.  My second tattoo helps me remember an important aspect of Good Friday that went along with the crucifixion but focused on another character in the story--Mary Magdalene. She was there when Jesus died, followed the men who took his body to a tomb, saw the stone rolled in from the of the tomb, and (according to at least one Gospel) stayed when everyone else left.  To me, that speaks of being present for someone you love in a way that few other actions could.  

And Good Friday followed the Holy Thursday dinner in which Jesus washed his apostles feet.  A symbol of a leader thinking of how to serve those he was leading. A powerful way to build loyalty and a sense of team.

So, while I will still go to church later and continue to reflect on the messages that the priest will share, my Easter Sunday experience of reflection that only requires thinking about the stories rather than having faith began long before I will enter St Pius X church.