The gospel writers are remarkably quiet today. The Passion narrative does not include Wednesday. I don't know why. I don't believe for a minute Jesus and company were staying in that day. But if one is to believe the narrative, nothing gospel worthy happened. (The Church fathers were so lost as to what to include in the Daily Office during Wednesday of Holy Week, that we actually flip all the way to Acts and we read about John Mark. Talk about ruining the ending, here it is approaching the climax of the story and we jump ahead to read about the early church, which was all about Easter). But I think Jesus and his buddies were dyeing eggs. He would have loved doing that. And just having to referee the turf wars as to what color the eggs were going to be, would have given Jesus pause. And I can just hear Judas telling Jesus that there was only enough money for 1 dozen. That was one egg a piece. When I was little, (there were three of us kids,) my mom only boiled a dozen eggs and we each got 4. This was very distressing to me because I never got to dye an egg in every color. And I think it was this early childhood trauma that is the root of my egg decorating compulsion. How was I ever going to work that through in therapy? Guess what? We never celebrated Palm Sunday either.
The first year I bought 2 dozen. I held Davis' hand (he was 6 months old) and dropped them in the cups. I know, by now, everyone is thinking I am one very neurotic mother when it comes to creating childhood memories for my child. At 6 months, I am forcing him to dye eggs. Forcing. I learned today that most sane people, and I never claimed to be, think 6 months old is a wee bit early to dye Easter eggs. It is not like the dye is toxic. But probably sane mothers don't do this because babies have not unclenched their fists yet. But not me. Since I was not going to have a palm branch experience or Kodak moment, by golly we were going to dye eggs. The next year he was 18 months old and we dyed 9 dozen. Yep. 9 dozen. I have a very special egg holder that gently slides the egg into the cups of dye. And much to my very grateful surprise, he loves to dye eggs too. Still. We dyed eggs in every color and no matter how you hard you try...dipping the egg in all the colors still makes brown. I am not sure my heart would have recovered if he had hated decorating Easter eggs. That would have probably been therapy worthy. The palm branch disaster was about all the momma disappointment over Easter I could take.
Discovering Pinterest this year has opened my world to the many, many ways to decorate Easter eggs. My egg decorating is pretty simple. I have tried "blowing" the egg out, but have only succeeded in breaking the eggs and causing a horrific migraine. I have used waxed to make designs. One year I made polka dot eggs. One year they were all monogrammed. I included the cat, the fish, every Tele Tubbie, and every friend Thomas the Tank had. Davis did have 108 eggs to dye. I have a friend at work whose daughter decorated the most amazing eggs this week. The technique was called zenderling. (I think.) They were stunning. Look it up on Pinterest. So I was amazed to learn this year of Greek Easter eggs. In the Orthodox tradition the eggs are dyed blood red. And I had to try it. THIS YEAR.
The English word for "Easter" comes for the word "Eostre". An Anglo-Saxon legend tells how the Saxon goddess Eostre found a wounded bird and transformed it into a hare, so that it could survive the Winter. The hare found it could lay eggs, so it decorated these each Spring and left them as offering to the goddess.
Rituals related to the goddess Eostre focus on new beginnings, symbolized by the Easter egg, and fertility, which is symbolized by the hare (or Easter bunny). Who knew? Originally bird eggs were dyed and somewhere it changed to chicken eggs. Which makes me think of last night.
I had dinner with my mother in law, and we ate at one of those all you can eat buffets with a Japanese theme, if you can imagine, which by the way, until last night I could not. I hate buffets. Besides the obvious health risks, the food sucks. This little adventure last night caused nightmares. I now have developed buffet PTSD. The first buffet station had octopus and I could actually see the suction cups. It had squid and I think that last tray was eel. I skipped all of that and went straight to the salad bar and bread. My mother in law sits down and says, "Look, I found fried frog legs. Try one, Kathleen, they taste just like chicken." You would have to know my mother in law to appreciate the next 10 minutes. She is one of those southern ladies who wants to try everything on your plate and insists that you taste everything on hers. Insists. Once, Davis called me on his cell phone lamenting that Grammy had force fed him hush puppies. Grammy kept telling me how delicious they were and they were the best ever. This concerned me greatly because apparently she had eaten enough frog in her life to declare these the best ever. This also implies that there is a worst ever fried frog leg. After swallowing a hurl, I began to wonder, where do you buy restaurant grade frog? And what cookbook do you find that recipe? And they do so closely resemble chicken legs, that never, never, never again will I order chicken out. And I am seriously rethinking the whole vegan thing. Ok, now my narrative has seriously wandered off track...back to Greek Easter Eggs.
During Lent, eggs are forbidden. Who knew? I certainly did not. In the Greek tradition the eggs are dyed blood red to symbolize the blood of Christ and each family member only gets 1 egg, which they break open and eat one Easter Sunday to symbolize the resurrection. Actually the tradition is more complicated than this, but you get the point. So, in theory, I only had to boil three eggs, four if you include my cat. Davis and I decided to do 3 dozen. Vance kindly lets us dye his eggs. He always does. Apparently there is very special Greek Easter egg dye for this. I could not find it. The alternative plan is to boil the skins of 15 (yes 15), Spanish onion skins, add vinegar and water and this will become a red dye. I could not find Spanish onions either. So I used a whole bottle of red food coloring. Unfortunately, I did not think this through. I mixed the food coloring in my favorite 12 cup Tupperware spouted bowl. It is now red. But our eggs are lovely.
Greek Easter Eggs...just one year try it...
Maybe the gospel writers took a break today for this one simple reason...in the middle of the drama of life...in the middle of all the tension of daily living...in the middle of conflict ridden relationships...in the middle of what looks to be a mess..when you are so ready for Spring to arrive and it has been dark for so long...when you are looking for hope at the bottom of a dark hole.. when you can not see past the Fridays of life...when you know Thursday is coming...and you can not avoid it...in the middle of the stress ...in the middle of it all...make space for the growing of your soul...and spend time becoming who you really are...and always welcome the needy, the sick, the poor...because there will always be enough and baskets will be left over...
And you just have to count daily graces: Easter eggs, dirt under fingernails, McCormick red food coloring, afternoon movies with teenagers, fried frog legs that you do not have to eat, lightning fireworks, hard spring rain, pulling weeds, two strong legs, the smell of pot roast at the end of a long work day, Sangria, luscious red strawberries, flaming Azaleas blooming two weeks early and the yard looks like Augusta National, returning verbena, lavender blossoms,dust bunnies, looking at courage in some one's eyes, hearing the unfurling of an other's dreams, hugs,tears...
Remember that Grace always leads...
Kathleen
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