What boulders are rolled away?

Easter dawn circle on Toronto waterfront

Jim Loney, liberated (right) with his partner Dan Hunt

Bismillah al-Rahman al-Raheem... بسمالله الرحمن الرحيم
(In the name of God, the compassionate and merciful...)
-opening verse of the Quran

TORONTO – Following an ancient tradition, our circle of a hundred faced west. The pre-dawn Easter sky was dark but for the full moon. At this time, there was no rumble of traffic to drown out the ducks playing in the pond. The west – where sun sets, light dies, cold winds come.

One by one, we held up a stone in our hand, named the hurts and injustices we wished to renounce, and threw the stones into the waters – remembering the Christian belief that the boulder on Jesus of Nazareth’s tomb was miraculously rolled away two thousand years ago.

By the time we had made the symbolic turn to the east, accepting and embracing new life, dawn had begun to splinter the horizon under the city skyline. The blazing orange sun was rising through the skyscrapers as we named what we hoped to embrace and nurture – ‘peace,’ ‘nonviolence,’ ‘joy,’ ‘freedom,’ ‘compassion,’ ‘solidarity,’ ‘love’ ...

As the city woke up, I reveled in the orange glow of Easter dawn, I gave thanks to be around old friends and community back in Toronto, and I rejoiced that I could spend this special ceremony with Jim Loney in his newfound freedom. It’s amazing what boulders are rolled away, and when.

My friend Jim looked so much skinnier than how I remember him, when we talked last July in his kitchen at the Toronto Catholic Worker community. That was before I went to Lebanon with the United Church, and before he went to Iraq with Christian Peacemaker Teams.

The Catholic Worker, which he co-founded a decade ago with his partner, Dan, has become an inspiration and guidepost for me from across the distances, a house of hospitality, prayer and resistance: A sign of new life.

Looking gaunt and still weary after his harrowing four-month hostage ordeal, Jim joined our Easter group in a dance that brought us face to face in a circle that spiraled inward as we sang words of the Jewish prophets:

And everyone ‘neath their vine and fig tree / Shall live in peace and be unafraid
And into plowshares beat their swords / Nations shall learn war no more.

This song had been chanted innumerable times during Jim’s captivity, at vigils, prayers meetings, and gatherings of Jim’s beloved community. I heard tales from his experience. How Jim, Harmeet, Norman and Tom (murdered before their release) would retell stories from scripture to keep their spirits alive. How they debated their rare opportunities to escape or overthrow their captors. How painfully boring being chained in a basement for four months can be.

As Easter sunrise rose, we celebrated the miracle of new life with can burst forth amidst the chains enslaving our world and our own compliance with this death system. For these things we repent. But the violence we have grown so painfully accustomed to in our world – whether it is from the hostage-takers, the terror-bringers, the prison-makers, the Empire-builders or the war-mongers – is what Jim called a “tomb” that binds us. The tomb of violence.

The universal stories of new life in the midst of death – of which the Christian Easter story is one – reassure us that overcoming these tombs is not grim obligation but a calling to ‘life in its fullness.’

In the Eastern Orthodox church, Christ’s resurrection is celebrated a week after ours, on April 23. Lebanon, which is home to both Eastern and Western Christians, honours two Easters a week apart. It was certainly a surprise to me that there are two Easters, remnants of one of the earliest disputes between the divided churches. (It’s also lamentable that both Christian Easters have become divorced from the date of the Jewish Passover holiday).

The Orthodox tradition is that, following an actual funeral procession (using a painted shroud to represent Christ) on Good Friday, worshippers gather on Sunday before dawn around a bonfire. At sunrise, the priest hammers on the locked door of the church, asking if Christ is present within. When the doors open, the lights are relit and all celebrate the Resurrection.

Sadly, I will not be able to tell you much about the Orthodox celebration of Easter in Lebanon, since I am in fact in Canada as I write this.

It is here that I bring you greetings and news from Beirut – from the World Student Christian Federation; from All Saints International Congregation; from my beloved community of new friends and family in the Middle East.

So here is my ‘big news’: After a difficult (and often painful) time of discernment about my mission in Beirut, I have decided not to continue at my original placement there. It became very, very clear that I am called to serve in a different way. Hearing such strong direction from God (and actually following it) was terrifying but also liberating. It was a personal experience of stones being rolled away.

Instead, I will be returning alone to Beirut next week, trusting that a way will be provided for me to serve, learn and live in solidarity.

I want to thank you all for your concern, prayers, advice and support over the last six months. I cannot explain how deeply I have been impacted by the people of the Middle East, and by those of you back home who have faithfully walked with me on my journey – whether you are in a congregation, one of those who wrote me, part of my family or my beloved communities across the country: Thank you.

As I plan to continue in the Middle East until the original end of my term – September – I invite you to continue walking with me, as I embark on this new phase of this journey. Not knowing where I will find work (or support) is less frightening when I know I am not alone.

The stone I threw into Lake Ontario last Sunday represented fear and doubt. So many of our tombs today are sealed shut with a thick paste of fear, and while fear can help us protect ourselves, if not faced and owned, fear gets the better of us.

Only faith – however you want to define it; trust, if you will – overcomes doubt and fear. Let the tombs be opened and aired out. It’s amazing what boulders are rolled away, and when.

If you would like to offer support, please email david[at]davidpball.net