Determining which is the correct date to celebrate Christ's Resurrection has been the subject of ecumenical debate for hundreds of years. The Gregorian calendar points to one set of rules, the Julian calendar points to another.

It's a debate which many - Francis included - would like to end.

"Easter does not take place by our own initiative or by one calendar or another.

"Easter occurred because God ‘so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life'" Francis said during an audience at the Vatican last week.

"Let us not close ourselves within our own ideas, plans, calendars or ‘our' Easter. Easter belongs to Christ!

"Moreover, it is good for us to ask for the grace to be ever more His disciples, allowing Him to be the one to show us the way we should follow."

One Resurrection for all

The delegation members Francis was addressing were from the ecumenical "Pasqua Together 2025" initiative. Founded in 2022, Pasqua calls on Orthodox and mainline Christian churches to celebrate Easter on a common date.

In Easter 2025, the Julian and Gregorian calendars happen by astronomical design to align. Pasqua proposes there should be agreement that the universal celebrations planned for next year should continue every year thereafter.

Pope Francis spoke encouragingly to them in support of their initiative, noting he has been asked several times to seek a solution to the issue of multiple dates for Easter.

"I encourage those who are committed to this journey to persevere and to make every effort in the search for a shared agreement, avoiding anything that may instead lead to further divisions among our brothers and sisters."

Christians should reflect, plan and walk together so that we may bear witness to Christ and that the world may believe, he said.

What's in a date?

Next year will mark both the Holy Year for the Catholic Church and celebrations of the 1,700th anniversary of the Council of Nicaea.

That Council gave birth to the Nicene Creed, affirmed the full divinity of Christ and set a formula for determining the date of Easter. It was to be the first Sunday after the first full moon after the spring equinox.

These days though, we measure time differently from the way we did in 300 AD. The calendar a church uses determines when they'll be celebrating Easter.

Orthodox churches use the Julian calendar which was in use during the Council of Nicaea.

Mainstream Christian churches use the Gregorian calendar, introduced in 1582 as a more accurate means of keeping time.

Source

• Vatican News
• Catholic Weekly

We are not told how he got the fish or given details of the preparation, but we can imagine silver fillets laid out on red hot stones and the air fragrant with breakfast.

Was everything back to normal?

No. The disciples, emptied by fear and grief at Jesus' crucifixion, are now being filled with something more than fish.

They are being moved to a larger, deeper place, and the Church, as we know it, will be born.

We meditate on that.

Earlier in the Gospels, we see the decimals as simple men attracted to Jesus, following him like someone would now follow a film star.

They squabbled amongst themselves as to who his favourite was, but they did not understand his teachings.

When their master was arrested, they fled.

His crucifixion found most of them in a locked room, afraid that they would be next.

But now, in the resurrection days, something different is happening.

The disciples, especially Peter, are being taken to a new place.

Jesus is handing over his ministry, promising that his Spirit will always be with them.

At Easter each year, we adopt this story and take it to ourselves.

We follow Jesus, seek understanding, sit by the cross on Good Friday and celebrate the resurrection on Easter Sunday.

Is it then back to work?

No, not really.

If we sit still in contemplation, we realise that the Sacred Spirit is cooking something for us.

It is more than breakfast.

Deep down, there has been some change that we can't describe, a call to come kind of newness.

I wait for it

My mind is concerned with looking after my body, so I need to go to my heart. It is filling with a sweetness that will eventually reach thought.

We all know this sweetness. We all connect with Gerard Manley Hopkins when he writes about the beauty in deep-down things.

In prayer, we can look at our own crucifixions and resurrections and realise that with Jesus, what is resurrected is always greater than what has died.

So now we are on the beach with Jesus. He has fed us and is moving us to some kind of ministry.

What is it?

I don't know what he is asking of me, but one thing is sure.

Easter is not over.

• Joy Cowley is a wife, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother and retreat facilitator.

The evening gathering on April 5 drew about 30 people representing both congregations. As the Masjid Muhammad Mosque, located a few blocks away, is undergoing a building expansion and renovation, Holy Redeemer has opened up its lower church hall for its Muslim neighbours to have their Jumah Friday prayer there.

In addition to participating in the interfaith discussion on fasting, two imams from Masjid Muhammad led men and women from their mosque in the Maghrib call to prayer at sunset and then in the Iftar fast-breaking evening meal, which they shared with the Holy Redeemer parishioners and guests.

Read More

Jewish friends describe this as a parable.

Egypt represents imprisonment in something that is unhealthy, something that restricts the freedom of God's people.

God leads his people out of Egypt.

At first the enemy will pursue people. This is represented by Paraoh's soldiers.

But God intervenes in the story of the parting of the Red Sea.

The enemy is drowned.

There is a time trial in the desert until the people eventually come to wholeness - described as the promised land.

This is the celebration of Hanukkah.

Christianity also has a celebration that has its roots in Judaism.

It is something that all churches have in common, the Easter journey of Christ Jesus' death and Resurrection.

It is not only a historic event but also a deeply personal journey for every Christian.

As Catholics we experience it as a journey of the heart.

When I was a 14 year old in a small Presbyterian choir, I practised the words and music of the Bach Chorale "Oh Sacred Head sore wounded, with grief and pain laid down…"

It was a solemn and beautiful song, and I enjoyed singing it with a group of adults.

However, in the context of a Good Friday service, that song became unbearably sad. It filled me with grief. L started to cry, and I ran out of the church.

Tears gave way to embarrassment, and someone came out to rescue me; but that memory comes to the surface every Easter.

We all feel the experience of solemn grief in the Good Friday service, and we rejoice in the light in of the Resurrection on Easter Sunday.

This is ingrained in us.

If we make a movement from heart to head, we are reminded that sacrifice of animals was the Jewish way of atonement for sin. I guess that'd why we called Jesus "the Lamb of God."

We acknowledge the sacrifice for sin, but at the same time know that something else is happening.

Jesus not only dies for us, he is resurrected for us

Death and resurrection are like two sides of one coin.

How do we see this great gift?

In my understanding, Jesus demonstrated that what is resurrected is greater than what has died.

This Easter I am looking at all the little "Crucifixions" in my life. We all have that list. For a while we feel dead, but then resurrection comes and with resurrection a feeling of new growth.

I can see all the times I've got stuck in the tomb through anger, grief, self-pity. But there have always been good friends who have helped me out of self- imprisonment.

I find it interesting that both Hannukah and Easter are about redemption and spiritual growth.

While Jesus would have grown up with the Jewish story of the Exodus from Egypt, it is the story of his life and death and resurrection that is His gift to us.

And what a gift!

Easter is so big in meaning, it can't be measured

• Joy Cowley is a mother, grandmother, great-grandmother and retreat facilitator.

It's the sentence that lifts off the page.

It's a few spoken words that go directly to the heart.

We all have these experiences.

One gift that has stayed with me, came from an old Jewish rabbi.

He wrote: "It's a sin to read the Torah as fact. It is parable."

That came like a bolt of lightning to someone who read the Gospels as history and fact.

The clue was there in Matthew: "Jesus spoke all things in parables. Without a parable was not anything he said."

There it was. A statement made twice for emphasis.

But it took a historic rabbi to bring its importance to heart.

I don't believe reading the Gospels as history and fact is wrong. I would call that a "head" way of understanding.

It's when we read the Gospels as parable that we open our hearts to Jesus.

What we receive will be personal and absolutely right for the moment.

Like most of you, I have always celebrated Easter in the Church with fellow lovers of Jesus.

Good Friday is a time of sadness. Easter Sunday is resurrection and rejoicing.

The two events have separation in the tomb.

This year brought me an extra gift that I would like to share with you.

Covid was a blessing. It kept me housebound, just me, the cat and the crucifixion journey in all four Gospels.

It was a journey done with the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

With that, came the knowing that crucifixion and resurrection could not be separated.

They are a way of growth.

Jesus demonstrated that what is resurrected is always greater than what has died.

I thought of the desolate times in my own life, times when I seemed that everything I valued was taken from me.

Those situations were worsened by my inability to retaliate. To do so would have been against Christian principles.

I had times in the tomb.

Then resurrection came, and with it, the realisation that I was in a larger place.

You may wish to look at this in your own life.

When did your life seem to take a cruel turn?

When were your plans destroyed, leaving you helpless?

How did you feel?

Then what happened afterwards?

You may return to Easter and realise that Jesus did more than "die for our sins."

He demonstrated that he was "The way, the Truth and the Life."

And when he added, "No one comes to the Father except by me," he was not making a political statement. He simply told us that this was what God's life school is about.

He lived his life for us, and continues to do so.

If you doubt this, just take a close look at the beauty in your own growth.

• Joy Cowley is a wife, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother and retreat facilitator. Joy Cowley is a wife, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother and retreat facilitator.

The earliest reference to the Easter Bunny dates back to before the 17th century, when the Germanic people of Europe introduced the Osterhase—a rabbit that brought gifts to children at Easter time.

Rabbits (originally hares) are long standing fertility symbols associated with the arrival of spring because they are so prolific and give birth as soon as the weather warms," notes Diane Shane Fruchtman, PhD, Assistant Professor of Religion at Rutgers University. Read more

He explained his views during a meeting with the U.S.-born patriarch of the Assyrian Church of the East last week.

"Let us have the courage to put an end to this division that at times makes us laugh" with the ridiculous possibility that Christians could ask each other, "When does your Christ rise again?" the pope told Catholicos Awa III, the patriarch of the Assyrian Church of the East.

The Catholicos was elected head of the church a year ago. Last week was his first official visit to the Vatican.

The Assyrian Church of the East is not in full communion with any of the Orthodox or Oriental Orthodox churches.

It began a theological dialogue with the Vatican in the mid-1990s.

Awa also mentioned he and many other Christians hope to find a way to celebrate Easter on the same day.

"We are ready to accept any proposal that is made together," Francis said, quoting St Paul VI.

Francis noted that in 2025, Christians will celebrate the 1,700th anniversary of the Council of Nicaea.

The Gregorian and Julian calendars will align that year, so Christians of the East and West will celebrate Easter on the same day.

Christian leaders should "be courageous and search together" for a solution that will bring a common celebration of Easter every year, Francis said.

Both he and the Catholic Church are willing to follow what St. Paul VI said. "Agree and we will go where you say."

In the Second Vatican Council's 1963 Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, there is a declaration "on revision of the calendar".

It says Council members "would not object if the feast of Easter were assigned to a particular Sunday of the Gregorian calendar, provided that those whom it may concern, especially the brethren who are not in communion with the Apostolic See, give their assent."

Since that time, the Vatican's position consistently has been that if Eastern Christians agree on a way to determine a common date for Easter, the Catholic Church would accept it.

Before the Council of Nicaea, different Christian communities celebrated Easter on different dates.

The Council decided for the unity of the Christian community and its witness, Easter would be celebrated on the first Sunday after the first full moon after the spring equinox.

The Julian calendar, which Christians used in the fourth century, was increasingly out of sync with the actual solar year.

March 21 - generally assumed to be the date of the Northern Hemisphere's spring equinox - gradually "drifted" away from the actual equinox.

In 1582, Pope Gregory XIII reformed the calendar, dropping 10 days and making the equinox fall on March 21 again.

Most Eastern Christians did not adopt the new calendar. This resulted in a situation where Easter occasionally is on the same day, but Eastern Christians' celebration can be as much as four weeks later.

Source

• NCR Online

The priest with four churches in the parish told CathNews that all the main services at prime times were full.

"I always knew people would come back", he said in an uplifted tone.

"I nearly had to erect a sign, 'No room at the Inn', but it's the wrong season for that," he said, grinning with delight.

A similar upbeat tone was reflected by parishes CathNews contacted throughout the country. In one, the 'crowd controller' at St Anne's Manurewa, Auckland, estimated the congregation numbered around 2,000, swamping available seating inside the church.

The feeling was catchy.

In Johnsonville, Jigs (16) assisted, as the priest sprinkled the bulging Easter Sunday congregation with water.

"The church couldn't cope with the number; people overflowed into the foyer, and we 'almost' ran out of holy water", Jigs told CathNews.

Gillian and Ewen said the Easter ceremonies lifted their spirits.

"People just kept on coming; there's life after all."

"People left their tombs; it was a resurrection experience happening before our eyes," Ewen said.

JL (18) breathed a sigh of relief as he described what he called ‘normality after two years.

"It was way more lively and great to see the community come out and celebrate the Resurrection of Jesus Christ," he said.

"The community is bigger than our locked-down individual efforts."

Judy described the ceremonies as "Spring in Autumn."

Not one for TV Eucharist, she told CathNews that, for her, "Church is about being together, not watching others eat and drink."

"Eucharist is a community in action, not a spectator event," she said.

Judy says she likes to go to Mass and considers herself ‘a regular', but confessed she is not the most organised and, because of the booking system, she regularly missed out.

"Whoever thought that for two years, we'd have to book to go to Mass!"

She said that she probably prayed a bit more in the intervening times than she once did but did not consider that a bad thing.

"But personal prayer is not community worship. It's different."

"Young families.

"New life.

"Optimism," she said.

The palpable confidence of all these parishioners was catchy. It was real and while some, for example, missed kissing the cross on Good Friday and others regretted there was no singing, all wanted to focus on the positive. Their Easter joy was overlayed with being sensible.

"As well as the Resurrection, people also had an eye on the rear-view mirror; the tomb," Jane told CathNews.

"They showed their care and respect for each other by being masked and using hand sanitiser.

"It gave me more confidence to be there," she said.

Australia

Easter positivity also permeated Australia, where more than 8,000 people filed through the doors of St Patrick's Cathedral in Melbourne.

Melbourne's Catholic Archbishop Peter Comensoli described the peoples' response as "humbling after COVID-19 density limits, and live streaming had dominated the event in recent years."

The Age reports that Cathedral staff went a step further than the norm and introduced hand sanitiser before receiving Holy Communion.

Not all over

However, despite the optimism, New Zealand's Dr Dion O'Neale of Covid-19 Modelling Aotearoa warns ‘it' is not all over, and the next Covid-19 wave could hit New Zealand as early as winter or spring.

He cautions that the shape and timing of the next wave hinge on big uncertainties - such as how fast our natural immunity will wane, and whether our own behaviour will boost the spread.

Identifying the importance of continuing to use of masks, O'Neale says that future waves should have lower peaks, but qualifies the comment by saying the lower peaks depend on peoples' behaviour.

He says a fourth vaccine for high-risk groups would be a good way to mitigate the health burden with future waves.

O'Neale says "Overseas data on reinfections suggests that it is dominated by infections in unvaccinated individuals - particularly in younger children who may be too young to be vaccinated and who have lower vaccination coverage in general."

He is also not ruling out another 'game-changing' variant.

On April 13, New Zealand's Covid Response Minister announced that at 11:59 pm the country would move from red to the orange traffic light setting.

Additional sources

• Newstalk ZB
• The Age
• RNZ

In traditional Jewish culture, myth once served many functions. The rituals commemorating the myths provided the Jewish community with a powerful cohesiveness that persisted throughout the community's dispersal across continents. At the personal level, myths helped individuals to encounter, explain, and gain meaning from their experiences in the world. For children, myths functioned as a nurturing source for spiritual feeling.

The story of Passover is a particularly important myth for Jews. Lovingly sustained by the Jewish community for millennia, it carries sacred and enduring wisdom that is passed down each year from the elders of the family to the children.

Its accompanying ritual, the Passover seder, is one of the oldest surviving rituals in the Western world, dating back some 3,300 years. It is also the most widely observed ritual in Judaism. The lively, family-oriented evening revolves around the retelling of one of Judaism's most important mythical moments — the Jewish exodus from Egypt. Accompanied with song and good cheer, the seder evening contains both set and spontaneous elements, with riddles, games, and a series of symbolic culinary elements designed to transport the individual back to ancient times, so that they may momentarily suspend reality and experience life exiled in Egypt.

Myths reflect the essence of a group's religious feeling and core identity — and for Jews, the central mythical motif is that of exile.

In the major biblical stories, exile is referenced through the metaphor of separation from a physical land — exile from the Garden of Eden, exile in Babylon, and exile in Egypt. The metaphor of the faithful wife exiled from her husband is another common expression of exile found in Jewish texts, including poems, prayers, and hymns.

To give but a few examples, In Song of Songs, a beloved young bride is consumed in search for her husband with whom she has been physically separated: "I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer". Bound together in a mutually devoted relationship, yet physically apart, their love is dominated by a sense of yearning, "O daughters of Jerusalem, I adjure you; if you find my beloved; tell him I am sick with love". In a poem by Yehuda Halevi titled "The day the depths were turned to dry land", he writes: "Then return, marry her [Israel] a second time; Do not continue to divorce her; Cause the light of her sun to rise, that the; Shadows shall flee away". In dark times, when tragedy had befallen the Jews, we find the analogy of marriage reimagined in terms of widowhood, as in this poem by the medieval Rabbi Isaac ben Judah ibn Ghiyyat: "I am bound and troubled as one living in widowhood; I yearn intensely, O Lord, for the Day of Comfort". Continue reading

The answer used to be provided at Easter, with the Christian climax in death by crucifixion, followed by resurrection.

The Jesus story wrestled with death not being merely death. Today, however, the sacred meaning of Easter is little more than a dusty relic.

For the secular modern age, belief in any form of life after death is in doubt.

The metaphysical supports that directed earlier generations, keeping them on their feet and moving, have lapsed.

Most no longer believe in a supernatural being — whether providential, guiding, punishing, or forgiving.

God has become a figment of the archaic imagination; gods of any type are mere alien superstitions, held once upon a time by naive, even primitive ancestors.

Belief has long gone in an eternal destination for the departing soul at death — heaven or hell.

The existence of a soul is in question; never mind whether that hypothetical soul survives the death of the individual human.

All in all, human consciousness has narrowed down to focus on mortal life, lived here and now, on a this-worldly plane; a finite span bound by birth and death, governed by everyday pleasures and pains.

Individuals today find themselves in the position of Socrates, if they are honest.

After being sentenced to death at his trial in Athens in 399BC, the 70-year-old philosopher reflected that he did not fear death.

He told his fellow citizens that he did not know what awaited him once he was gone.

There were two possibilities.

Either death was final, like a form of eternal dreamless sleep. Or his soul was immortal and would migrate off, somewhere beyond, to join other immortal souls. Socrates was the paradigm agnostic.

The death question has not gone away.

Its centrality for all humans, and in all times, is illustrated by the fact religions pivot their theology on finding an answer to it.

The first great work in the Western tradition, Homer's Iliad, focuses on death: even though it is a war and conquest story, the nature of mortality is of much greater concern than fighting and glory.

Christianity instated the cross as its commanding symbol, a death and transcendence symbol.

A different world

Today, in a seemingly quite different world, what is it possible to believe?

Let me open by considering a room full of people.

When a stranger comes through the door, those whom they encounter will recognise that a kind of force has arrived, changing the atmosphere.

An extraordinary concentration of presence has infiltrated among those assembled.

That individual human being is more than the sum of their known and observed parts: physical form, the complex of their gestures and expressions, voice, and attributes of character, and its biography.

The derogatory Yiddish term nebbish underlines the point, in negation, referring to an inconsequential person whose presence on entering a room creates a vacuum.

We see this in parenthesis in some fictional examples.

When Achilles stands up unarmed on the edge of raging battle, in Book Eighteen of The Iliad, and the goddess Athena bathes his head and shoulders in metaphoric golden light, the fighting Trojans stop in mid-stride, quaking in fear, although they are armed and winning the battle.

When Audrey Hepburn enters the royal ball in My Fair Lady the assembled throng is hushed, awe-struck by her shimmering beauty, a beauty that outshines gorgeous gown, gracious figure, and finely proportioned face.

She is a modern goddess, a film "star", the many associations with divinity indicating that some kind of supernatural glow is seen to have manifested, emanating from her.

The stranger who enters the room is more than personality, although personality may have its own impact, whether brashly domineering, slyly insincere, sparklingly alert or even darkly gloomy.

Personality may even predominate.

It, in turn, may be amplified by physical bulk, litheness of movement, fidgety restlessness or languor.

Nor does the stranger introduce just a new energy field.

Shadowing the physical form, some kind of spiritual aura has been revealed.

Those already in the room, were they to calm themselves, put their egos into recess and half-close the eyes, might sense a concentration of spectral force.

Sacred impregnation of the ether contrasts with carnal thereness.

Here lies the supreme potential power of living humans.

Intimidation may follow, as with Achilles on the edge of battle.

Alternatively, a process of psychic contagion may impose myriad other influences.

The presence of the other can inspire, excite or charm; calm or unsettle; or distress, deplete and depress.

Psychic contagion is arguably the least understood factor in personal and social relations, and the most underestimated.

This is why a corpse is unnerving.

The physical form is there, largely unchanged. But the animating presence has gone, the light switched off.

The face is a mask, whether chalklike or heavily made-up, ghastly, quite different from the prosaic outer form of the person who recently was.

The eerie horror that leaves the observer grave, shaken and mute — that simply cannot be comprehended — is that this person, lying here as a ghostly physical residue, is gone forever.

No breath remains to flutter the veil.

The body, cold to the transgressive touch, commands deathly silence, awakening consciousness of the vacancy of life, its little consequence when seen in the context of the infinite, eternal nothing.

This negative power in turn, however, implies an opposite positive truth — two sides of the same coin — a truth of such engaging potency that to remove or deny it may paralyse the witness.

It is difficult to believe that the concentration of spectral force that, but an hour earlier, animated the human entity that is now a cadaver simply disappears into nothing.

It is said that death is final. But those are mere words.

For the preceding 3000 years in our culture, it was assumed that a soul inhabited the living person.

According to most beliefs, it arrived at birth and departed at death. With their last breath, the person expired. The spirit that was breathed out for the last time was the "immortal soul".

To progress further we need to distinguish between two quite different phenomena animating the human psyche.

On the one hand, there is vitality, energy, life force and ego.

On the other, there is soul.

The former constellation is mortal. Energy ebbs as a person gets older or sickens; the ego shrinks, even withers. When the person dies their vitality is snuffed out.

If we reflect on the nature of the human ego, it appears unambiguously mortal.

The novel (and film) Gone with the Wind makes the point — a 2014 survey found it still the second favourite book of American readers, just behind the Bible.

Gone with the Wind contrasts Scarlett O'Hara, as lead character, with Melanie Hamilton.

Scarlett is a force of nature, extraordinarily vital and resilient; petulantly childish, selfish, insensitive and indomitable; all ego, yet shrewd and realistic in practical matters.

Melanie is soulful, an exemplar of selfless charity and goodness.

She is low on ego, naive and sickly, whereas Scarlett is diminutive of soul.

Scarlett's vitality seems to have its source less in a love of life's potential fulfil­ments than a tenacious clinging, driven by an assertive, buoyant ego that refuses to be cowed.

The inference may be drawn that once the struggle is over nothing will be left — and indeed for Scarlett, the life essence is struggle.

Scarlett's one reverent attachment is to her land, Tara, expressed at the end of the novel, if only as a consoling flicker.

In general, the animal life force, which Scarlett incarnates to the full, does expire.

With Melanie, the grip on actual living is weak; the influence of her spirit strong and resolute.

Most who move within her orbit, hold her in awed respect.

She is the unassuming centre of gravity, her grace, kindness and incandescent virtue a beacon to others.

It is more difficult to imagine the extinguishing of her spirit when she dies.

St Augustine made a distinction between two deaths, the death of the soul and that of the body.

The soul may die but the person goes on living — they die twice. As an illustration, those rendered permanently unconscious by a severe stroke, with the body still breathing, the heart beating, may give the overwhelming impression to those close to them that the spirit has already absented itself — the animating aura of the person, or the soul, appears to have departed.

Primo Levi, in If This is a Man (1958), his account of his experience in Auschwitz, draws an inflexible distinction among humans between those who are saved, and those drowned — a more useful distinction today, it seems to me, than the moralised one between the saved and the damned.

The distinction was more obvious in the extreme environment of the Nazi concentration camp.

Those who had lost the will to live but were still alive formed an anonymous mass, continually renewed and always identical, of non-men who marched and laboured in silence, the divine spark dead within them, already too empty to really suffer.

JK Rowling's Harry Potter is the singular book and film phenomenon of recent times.

The seven-volume Harry Potter series posits a similar understanding of the immortal soul, by casting sinister black, wraithlike creatures called Dementors, which chill the atmosphere whenever they are present, making anyone in their vicinity gloomy — they represent psychic contagion writ large.

When Dementors attack, they attempt to kiss the victim, to suck out the soul through the mouth.

In a largely post-Christian world, it is telling that Levi and Rowling should evoke almost identical imagery for the existence of the soul. Auschwitz had swarmed with Dementors.

What would sceptics say?

In fact, they can counter with one simple axiom: fear of death gives birth to many a powerful illusion.

The pure atheist, at the extreme, does not believe in God and goes further, to reject all metaphysics.

A counter-faith is set up, a new orthodoxy staked to materialist science which, it is held, explains everything.

Human beings are but material entities and, when they die, matter rots and decays, returning to dust.

Acute human experience, notably death, may however leave psychic residues that are more substantial than fantasy imaginings.

Once, when visiting the German city of Munich, I was shocked to see a station at the end of an ordinary train line named Dachau.

How, I thought, could a "normal" suburb be built on the site of one of the most notorious Nazi concentration camps?

Experience points in two opposite directions here.

It is common to revisit a place in which fateful personal events had taken place — tragedy, romance, sporting triumph or even the house in which one grew up — to find it resistant to nostalgic memory, cold and empty, indifferent to the past.

Maybe the suburb of Dachau is just like any other modern Western community, with a bank, a supermarket and a playground.

The minds of the living may be haunted by ghosts from their own past, but those ghosts will vanish with them, or even before.

Yet the opposite is equally true.

There are places haunted by ghosts from the past — personally, I find it hard to imagine this is not the case with Dachau.

There are spaces that resonate with sacred atmosphere — Delphi comes to my mind, as does the inside of Bourges cathedral, the Alhambra in Granada, and some ancient Australian Aboriginal ceremonial grounds.

Romain Rolland wrote of an "oceanic feeling" he was never without, of something limitless, unbounded, a sensation of eternity.

He suggested that this feeling is the universal source of religious energy, whatever the religion and whatever the particular forms of belief and worship.

We are in territory in which there are no proofs.

Even Rolland remarked that the oceanic feeling does not necessarily imply personal immortality.

There are cases in which the soul is stifled by the housing personality.

Shakespeare's Richard II, as king, is a case in point, lacking judgment: he is proud, wasteful, lazy, irresponsible and unjust.

Once he loses power, however, he switches into a dignified, majestic reflection on life:

Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs, Make Dust our paper, and with rainy eyes

Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth … For within the hollow crown; That rounds the mortal temples of a king... Keeps Death his court; ….

Once Richard tunes in to things of ultimate gravity, he stills the audience.

He has been transported out of the realm of worldly ambition.

Liberated, he surrenders to timeless truth, embracing it, and he gains the rare power of being able to speak with its voice.

The deep and eternal truths about the human condition are one of the soul's currencies.

What I am suggesting here is that Rolland's abiding sense of eternity beyond the individual is matched by a sense of eternity within.

An electric current needs two poles. It is the conjoining of the two, beyond and within, that counters the threat of drowning.

The belief in the immortal soul has its roots somewhere here.

• John Carroll is professor emeritus of sociology at La Trobe University.
• First published in The Australian. Republished with permission.

The Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore was his first stop.

Then he walked along one of Rome's usually busy main streets to visit St. Marcello church.

There he prayed before a crucifix used in a procession when the plague hit Rome in 1522.

His prayers were for an end to the pandemic, for the sick and their families and for health providers and workers keeping pharmacies and food stores open.

A national lockdown is underway in Italy to help prevent the virus's spread.

The Vatican says Holy Week and Easter services will be held without public participation.

This is believed to be the first time this has happened in modern times.

Decisions about how usually massive Holy Week events will be scaled down are still being worked through.

One of these events occurs on Palm Sunday in commemoration of Jesus' entry to Jerusalem. It usually takes place in St. Peter's Square, which traditionally is decorated with olive trees while those in the crowd hold up palm branches.

Another Holy Week event, the Way of the Cross procession on Good Friday, takes place around Rome's Colosseum.

The main event is the Easter Sunday Mass and the pope's twice yearly "Urbi et Orbi" blessing and message from the central balcony of St. Peter's Square.

Tens of thousands of flowers to decorate the papal altar and the entire square are usually flown in from the Netherlands. This year, however, the Dutch ambassador to the Vatican says there will be no flowers.

Everyone is having to make changes because of COVID-19.

The pope, the Vatican and the church in predominantly Catholic Italy have all had to make changes to centuries of tradition.

Masses in Italy have been canceled and bishops are urging the faithful to participate via television and the internet.

In Poland, which has over 100 COVID-19 cases and three deaths, the faithful are being told to watch mass on TV or online after the government banned public gatherings larger than 50 people.

Many priests preached to nearly empty pews on Sunday.

"It is such a depressing feeling for a priest," one priest said.

Where the children's Mass usually attracts about 200 people, he said "Today there were maybe 17 people, plus five acolytes, three priests. I've never seen anything like this before."

Source

• Reuters
• Image: The Irish Post

'Hui Aranga' means 'Gathering around the Rising of Jesus'. It is the Maori Catholic celebration of the Easter message.

The Hui Aranga began at Otaki at Pukekaraka in 1946.

This year the hosts were Taranaki, Nga Pekanga (Waitara) and Araukuku (Hawera).

The visiting groups were hosted at local marae and travelled to the Hub each day.

People came from Maori Catholic clubs in Whangarei, Tauranga, Hawkes Bay, Whanganui and Wellington. Some people even came from Australia.

The focus is on celebrating the Easter dying and rising of Jesus in a Maori way.

The Easter message was incorporated in every activity; the kapa haka, the religious quiz, the oratory, the sacred solo.

Even before the Sports Day Procession and sports on Saturday, an oath is repeated to ensure the correct spirit in playing against one another.

A highlight of the Hui is the 'massed choir' when all clubs come on stage to sing at the end of the Easter Sunday Eucharist.

There was even a Disco for the more lively participants.

Marks are given for all activities and taonga are awarded to the successful teams.

While they may appear to be just like normal cups and shields, the taonga represent the tipuna who presented them and who encourage the spirit of the Hui Aranga still.

Often a Club will begin its bracket with a song to those who have died in the last year.

This is a moving tribute as they hold their photos as they sing.

A big part of the Hui is the opportunity to catch up with people. Shared meals are important because they give people a chance to chat and support each other.

The bishop of Palmerston North, Charles Drennan attended the Good Friday service.

The members of the local parish were invited to Good Friday and Holy Saturday services. Their parish priest, Fr Craig Butler, came with them.

There was a group Kaumatua and Kuia who proudly watched their mokopuna participate. They embody the tradition of past Hui.

Next year the Hui will be hosted by the Wellington region. This includes Te Waiora (Manawatu), Tu Hono (Porirua) and Nga Karere (Wellington Central).

At the end of the Hawera Hui, members of the Wellington Clubs received the symbols of the Hui.

These include a large wooden Cross and a statue of Mary. Mary, or Te Whaea, is the patroness and inspiration of the Hui Aranga.

Between now and next Easter this statue will make the rounds of homes, schools and marae in the wider Wellington area.

Families and groups will pray the Rosary asking blessings on the Hui Aranga.

Source

Supplied: Pa Piripi Cody

Acclaimed New Zealand Children's author Joy Cowley described it as "a lovely little book".

"It's warm, it's happy, it's the Good News!

"The positive message with the rhythmic text and lively illustrations make it a perfect book for young children. It's also good news for the child in adults like me," she said.

This Easter Bible Society is giving away 85,000 copies of The Seriously Surprising Story, the next booklet in their popular children's series.

Following on the tails of The Well Good News of Christmas and The Super Cool Story of Jesus, these three little books will have reached 285,000 kiwi kids nationwide by the middle of this year.

There they encounter a stranger and talk to him about events in Jerusalem. Just as the disciples were surprised, so children are too when they learn the stranger is Jesus himself!

The Seriously Surprising Story is available online . Individuals can order up to 5 copies at a time while churches can place bulk orders of up to 200 copies for their Easter activities. Copies of the book are also available at some Salvation Army Family Stores.

In addition, there is a poster and an animated version of the book, both available on the website. Other Bible Society Easter resources are also available.

Source

Supplied: New Zealand Bible Society

The pastor at the Baptist Church is actually called Chris.

Curate Ned Lunn said Chris did indeed have to get up for a sunrise service at 6:30 am on Easter Sunday because "his predecessor didn't manage to get up for the service last year."Read more

They usually take the cross up the hill at 10 am on Good Friday, tie it into place, say prayers and sing hymns, and leave it there until 3 pm when some members return to remove it.

This year when they returned to take the cross down it was not there.

Tupuna Maunga a body created under a 2014 Treaty settlement controls the mountain-top.

It chairman Paul Majurey said it appeared the cross was destroyed by "members of the public" in the early afternoon.

The authority had given consent for the ritual to take place but the church leaders had not said they would leave the cross unattended for several hours, nor that it would be attached to a structure.

Majurey said that a contractor employed by the authority had no way of knowing that the cross was supposed to be there.

"However our contractor did not take it down."

Majurey said their contractor had noticed three young men sitting on the bench beneath the intact cross when he first pulled up.

But he could not confirm that they were responsible for the destruction of the cross.

However, when the contractor later returned he found the cross lying in pieces.

As a health and safety precaution, he removed and disposed of the nails, rope and broken pieces of wood.

Anglican vicar Charmaine Braatvedt, of Holy Trinity Church in Devonport, said the authority had told her the cross had been damaged and was taken to the tip.

The authority offered to replace the cross, but Braatvedt said that would not be necessary.

She said that in the Easter spirit of reconciliation she looked forward to better communications with the authority next year.

She acknowledged that the churches had not made it clear enough to the authority, knew the details of the procession and removal of the cross.

Source

• nzherald.co.nz
• Image: nzherald.co.nz

Legionary of Christ Brother Anthony Freeman of Houston was 29. Read more

The Hui Aranga, or Maori Easter Gathering, is a Maori Catholic celebration of Holy Week and Easter.

Groups come to it from all over the North Island.

This year they included Clubs from Tauranga (Tauranga Moana), Wairoa (Tawhiti a Maru), Hawkes Bay (Waipatu), Wellington and Porirua (Nga Karere and Tu Hono), Taranaki (Araukuku), the Whanganui River (St Vincents, St Peter Chanel and Wainui a rua) and the host Club from Ohakune (Ruapehu).

This was the 72nd year the Hui Aranga has met. It began in 1946 at Otaki (Pukekaraka).

It is a remarkable testimony to endurance in Faith and Culture.

As the late Maori Bishop, Takuira Mariu SM, used to say, it is "the lifeblood of Maori Catholic which sustains a cultural expression of their Whakapono (Faith)".

Traditional ceremonies for Holy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter Sunday were held.

Bishop Charles Drennan (Good Friday), Mons. Gerard Burns, Fr Bernie O'Donnell (Parish Priest of Ohakune-Taihape), Mons. David Gledhill SM and Pa Piripi Cody SM attended.

Sr Margaretta RSJ and Br Denis O'Brien SM were religious present.

A remarkable play conducted by local rangatahi (youth) depicted the Good Friday Gospel linked to the Stations of the Cross.

At the end of the play, Christ was taken from the Cross and placed in Mary's arms. Christ reappeared, clothed in white, at the Easter Sunday Gospel.

Standing tall, he proclaimed "E te Iwi, kia Ora" ("The Fullness of Life be with the People").

Those gathered had competitions covering cultural Kapa Haka, Whaikorero (Oratory), Religious Quiz, Sacred Solo and Choir, and a variety of sports.

A huge marquee provided the venue: 2/3rds used for ceremonies; 1/3 for dining.

Feeding several hundred people breakfast, lunch and dinner is no mean feat!

This was a ‘Parakore' (waste-free) hui. At every rubbish bin was a bin for recycling. As people came to wash their dishes, there were bins for food, plastic and rubbish.

Waipatu (Hastings) scooped the pool for both Religious and overall aggregate.

They were closely followed by St Peter Chanel (Whanganui River).

All events have three levels: Mokopuna (midgets), Rangatahi (junior) and Matua (Senior).

At the thanksgiving and closing on Easter Monday, the ‘Mauri' (Central life force), a statue of Mary clothed in her korowai (cloak) was given to the Club due to host the Hui Aranga in 2019.

It will be Araukuku from Hawera.

Source

Supplied: Philip Cody

The borough's former mayor David Hay has slammed the decision, saying the structure was part of the area's local identity.

"It is disappointing that our elected representatives have voted to stop what has been part of our heritage in Mount Roskill for so long," he said. Continue reading

It is a gag arising from the rare converging of Easter Sunday and April Fool's Day. Read more

Take one's relation to a doctor. Insofar as we deal with a doctor qua doctor, we want him to tell us the truth about what is wrong with us. If we didn't, we should not bother him. We do not, if we are normal, want him to lie to us.

Unless we know what the problem is, we cannot decide what, if anything, we need to do about it. And if we decide the doctor is incompetent, we still have to find one that is.

Definitions are good things. They are intended to tell us what a thing is in words we understand. Generally, we want to know what a thing is whether we like it or not. Indeed, we need to know what things can harm us and which ones help us.

We understand that it is dangerous for us deliberately to choose not to know the truth about something. On the basis of what they are and of what we are, our knowledge relates us to everything that is not ourselves.

In the Easter season, someone who does not know much about what it means might well ask: "What exactly is Easter anyhow?" Accurate knowledge of it is not always easy to come by.

Indeed, we have the impression that many people do not want to know what it really is lest it make a demand on them they are not willing to consider. Still, what would be a fair and accurate answer to an honest inquiry about Easter that had no further purpose but to hear accurately what this word and the reality to which it refers mean?

On hearing the explication, the inquiring listener might say: "So that is what it means!" or "Makes no sense to me!" or "I had it all wrong" or "It's really complicated" or "Run that by me again..." In any case, the question—"What is Easter?—is a worthy one. Continue reading

Sources

• The Catholic World Report article by Fr James V. Schall, S.J., who taught political philosophy at Georgetown University for many years until recently retiring.
• Image: The Guardian