The Choice of Judas?

Judas reaches for the food, School of Monte Cassino, c.1100

In keeping with my previous writings concerning ‘Times and Seasons’, and with conditions being so different from the usual at the moment, I have been reflecting on the Easter story.

I don’t have a great deal of skin in this game, not being a Christian or believing in the divinity of Jesus – or at least any more divinity than anyone else. Still, it is the tradition I grew up in. The irreligiosity of my family didn’t diminish the exposure to the story that one gets from wider society. It is a story that few who grew up in the UK, at least around the time I was doing so, could avoid knowing about.

Of course, without more study than even most Christians put into it, you get a very simplistic idea of the story. As with the Christmas story, the story we generally get through liturgy, or being taught in school, or seeing dramatic interpretations, is a sort of hodgepodge of the different gospel accounts. The journey into Jerusalem, assorted miracles, the Last Supper, the betrayal at Gethsemane. Yet all of these elements are different in different gospels, as I noted in previous writing concerning the Last Supper. Now, I am going to focus on the betrayal of Jesus by Judas, a story whose meaning I’m not sure is appreciated as best it might be – and a story that has been used down the centuries to justify injustice.

Easter Reflection: The Lord's Supper

I wrote last year about Quakers and Easter, both what it can mean from a community perspective, and what it can mean from a spiritual perspective. This year, I wish to reflect on a Christian story that forms part of the Easter narrative, but which has led to a practice that is undertaken regularly, year round, by most Christian and derived traditions – though not, largely speaking, by Quakers (certainly not by those who worshipped in an unprogrammed manner, and not consistently by those in programmed traditions). I refer, of course, to the story of the Last Supper, and the practice of the Eucharist – also known as Holy Communion, the Lord's Supper, the Blessed Sacrament, Sacrament of the Altar, the Breaking of Bread (a term which can relate to wider and older traditions), and other names besides. For those who do not recognise those terms, this is the symbolic (or more than symbolic, depending on your denomination) consumption of the body and blood of Christ – in the form of bread or wafers and wine (or grape juice or water, depending on denomination) – during the main worship service in most Christian churches.

A Quaker Easter Part 2: Meaning

In yesterday's post, I looked at the role the celebrating or otherwise marking Easter might have within Quaker communities, and in terms of a Quaker community's relationship with the community in which it is situated. Today, I will continue the exploration of Easter, but on a more spiritual note. I will look at the story/stories behind Easter, its history, and what meaning we might take from it.

As I have explained previously, I think this is important for Quakers. This is because, where we observe the traditional testimony concerning times and seasons at all, we tend to only remember half of it. No day is more holy, or more significant than another, which is important. However, the early Friends did not reject the lessons and meaning of holy days, just their fastening to a particular day. The same argument applies to liturgical seasons. Thus, it would be taught that we do not observe Easter, or other holidays, but that we should remember the lessons and meaning of Easter all through the year.

Now, of course, with the cultural pervasiveness of many holidays, it is (in my experience) a rare Quaker that refuses any observance of the holidays at all, yet I see little deep engagement with the meanings of these festivals, whether at that time of the year or otherwise.

A Quaker Easter Part 1: Communities

In the western liturgical calendar, this weekend is Easter. Orthodox (eastern) Easter is next weekend, in case you were curious. As such, this is a good time to continue my series of posts on “times and seasons”.

Quakers traditionally reject liturgical calendars, but increasingly, Friends observe the various holidays and festivals, whether sacred or secular, at least on a cultural basis. As I have observed before, however, the rejection of times and seasons is not a rejection of the idea of the holidays themselves, not a rejection of the stories and ideas behind them, but a rejection of the basic idea of “holy days”. No day is more sacred than any other; for Christian Friends, or for any who draw inspiration from Christian stories, no day is more appropriate than another for the remembrance of the story of Holy Week, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion on Resurrection, just the same as no day is more appropriate than any other for the remembrance of the Nativity, nor indeed for the remembrance of those lost in war or the struggle to achieve rights and equality for women.