Beauty Rises from Ashes
Disclaimer: If you are not "religious," please bear with me. I think you will still find this post interesting.
Today marks the beginning of Holy Week - the final week leading up to Easter. The last week of Lent. On Friday, I will attend a Tenebrae/Good Friday service which reminds me of and invites me into the death of Christ. On Easter morning, I will gather with my church family at sunrise around a bon fire where we will celebrate the Risen Son.
But what is all this ritual about? Well, too much to write here. But I was reminded this morning of a few aspects of this season that challenge me.
I love living in the Northern Hemisphere and in an area that experiences all four seasons. After the worst winter I can remember, I have never longed more for Spring. Anything that was left exposed to the brutal elements this winter most certainly died. And yet trees have buds on them and the grass is turning green again. From death comes new life. Beauty rises from ashes. Resurrection.
This concept of dying in order to truly live is one I will continue to contemplate as long as I'm alive. But as much as a I love cerebral stuff, I need tangible examples to really help me enter into something like this. I read a book a few years ago that provided a wonderful illustration of what this can look like. Between a Rock and a Hard Place by Aron Ralston tells Aron's story of survival (this is the true story behind the film 127 Hours). Ralston was trapped in a canyon. Alone. Under a boulder. For 5 days. The crux of the story is that Aron's ultimate survival depended on the self-amputation of his arm.
His trapped arm was decomposing while still attached to his body. It was dead. If he didn't rid himself of it, the dead limb would begin to infect the rest of his healthy body bringing certain death. When he realized he was going to amputate his arm, he said of it: "I don't want it. It's not part of me. It's garbage. Throw it away, Aron. Be rid of it."
Aron's physical life and very survival hinged on his ability to rid himself of the dead arm. It's not always so tangible or literal for us. I believe there dead pieces of myself that are slowly decomposing and spreading through the rest of me - infecting places that are healthy. I must amputate. There must be death in order to bring life. But what are those dead places? Unhealthy relationships? A wrong view of myself or others? Bad habits? It can be hard to identify such places. They have become familiar. Manageable. Comfortable. Normal. To rid myself of them will be painful.
This book and story were instrumental in my life about ten years ago. It was this thought process that sent me back to school for my Masters degree and put me on a new career path. It was absolutely terrifying and new and uncomfortable, but so much life came as a result. So in this last week before Resurrection Sunday, I examine myself again. And I pray that I will have courage, like Aron, to cut off that which brings me death. "I don't want it. It's not part of me. It's garbage. Throw it away, Annie. Be rid of it."
In whatever faith tradition you may practice (or not practice), I hope you can examine yourself in a similar way. I hope you can rid yourself of things in your life that are bringing on a slow death.
Today marks the beginning of Holy Week - the final week leading up to Easter. The last week of Lent. On Friday, I will attend a Tenebrae/Good Friday service which reminds me of and invites me into the death of Christ. On Easter morning, I will gather with my church family at sunrise around a bon fire where we will celebrate the Risen Son.
But what is all this ritual about? Well, too much to write here. But I was reminded this morning of a few aspects of this season that challenge me.
I love living in the Northern Hemisphere and in an area that experiences all four seasons. After the worst winter I can remember, I have never longed more for Spring. Anything that was left exposed to the brutal elements this winter most certainly died. And yet trees have buds on them and the grass is turning green again. From death comes new life. Beauty rises from ashes. Resurrection.
This concept of dying in order to truly live is one I will continue to contemplate as long as I'm alive. But as much as a I love cerebral stuff, I need tangible examples to really help me enter into something like this. I read a book a few years ago that provided a wonderful illustration of what this can look like. Between a Rock and a Hard Place by Aron Ralston tells Aron's story of survival (this is the true story behind the film 127 Hours). Ralston was trapped in a canyon. Alone. Under a boulder. For 5 days. The crux of the story is that Aron's ultimate survival depended on the self-amputation of his arm.
His trapped arm was decomposing while still attached to his body. It was dead. If he didn't rid himself of it, the dead limb would begin to infect the rest of his healthy body bringing certain death. When he realized he was going to amputate his arm, he said of it: "I don't want it. It's not part of me. It's garbage. Throw it away, Aron. Be rid of it."Aron's physical life and very survival hinged on his ability to rid himself of the dead arm. It's not always so tangible or literal for us. I believe there dead pieces of myself that are slowly decomposing and spreading through the rest of me - infecting places that are healthy. I must amputate. There must be death in order to bring life. But what are those dead places? Unhealthy relationships? A wrong view of myself or others? Bad habits? It can be hard to identify such places. They have become familiar. Manageable. Comfortable. Normal. To rid myself of them will be painful.
This book and story were instrumental in my life about ten years ago. It was this thought process that sent me back to school for my Masters degree and put me on a new career path. It was absolutely terrifying and new and uncomfortable, but so much life came as a result. So in this last week before Resurrection Sunday, I examine myself again. And I pray that I will have courage, like Aron, to cut off that which brings me death. "I don't want it. It's not part of me. It's garbage. Throw it away, Annie. Be rid of it."
In whatever faith tradition you may practice (or not practice), I hope you can examine yourself in a similar way. I hope you can rid yourself of things in your life that are bringing on a slow death.
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