The Work of the Bees
As Easter Reflection
RCL Easter C
21 April 2019
Holy Trinity Cathedral
Luke 24.1-12
24.1But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared. 2They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, 3but when they went in, they did not find the body. 4While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them. 5The women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. 6Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, 7that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.” 8Then they remembered his words, 9and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest. 10Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told this to the apostles. 11But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. 12But Peter got up and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves; then he went home, amazed at what had happened.
Many of us this past week were caught up in the scenes of the fire at Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris. Perhaps we had our own moments of strong emotions when the steeple fell, while others found themselves re-living memories of their own visits to the Cathedral and its environs. In the aftermath of the fire I know that friends have found some comfort in the knowledge that many of the precious works of art, the relics of the saints and the stained glass windows were either rescued or survived the flames and smoke.
In the days after the fire millions of dollars were pledged for the re-building of the Cathedral. The in-pouring of such promises of support generated both praise and criticism. Some voices were raised to ask why the wealthy were willing to open their wallets to fund the restoration of a cultural icon, while they manoeuver energetically to avoid paying taxes that might be used to fund social projects. Religious voices were heard to ask whether it was appropriate to spend so much money on one building when there are literally thousands of churches throughout France that require significant repairs and renovations.
For me, as the vicar of a congregation that makes its home in a historic building, I watched the drama of the fire and listened to the debate that is still raging from a particular perspective. It is the vocation of any church to serve both as a place of worship and as a place of public assembly and service. Our buildings are witnesses to continuity as well as bases for the Christian community to do justice, to love kindness and to walk humbly among those with whom we live and work. At our best we are living signs of God’s love for the world made known in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth.
Just two days ago, though, I learned something that gave me a deeper understanding of the fire. Some of you may know that there is an initiative in Paris to stem the decline of bees in the city. So, on the rooftops of many buildings, there are bee hives. On the roof of Notre Dame there are three bee hives housing more than 180,000 bees. As the flames drew nearer to their location, the beekeeper could only look on helplessly. Once the fire was extinguished, he tried to gain access to the roof but was denied. Two days ago other beekeepers took pictures of the roof which showed that not only had the hives survived but the bees had not been harmed by the temperature of the fire which came as close as 10 metres to the hives.
The news that the bees had survived took me back to a late Saturday night in April of 1979. I was participating in my first Easter Vigil as a student in theological college. In the darkness of the Wisconsin night we kindled a fire and lit the Paschal Candle. We processed up the central aisle of the Chapel of Saint Mary the Virgin stopping three times to proclaim ‘The light of Christ. Thanks be to God.’ Then the candle was placed near the high altar and the deacon began to sing the Exsultet.
The Exsultet is one of the oldest hymns in the Christian tradition. It tells the whole story of salvation beginning with creation and ending with the resurrection of Jesus. All this history is embodied in the tall, slender candle. The deacon, at one point, sings, ‘Therefore, O holy Father, accept the evening sacrifice of this lighted candle, which your holy Church makes before you, and offers to you by the hands of your servants, the work of the bees your creatures.’ The resurrection is not just for humanity. It is for the bees and all of creation.
I remember the smell of beeswax overcoming the powerful aroma of the incense rising from the thurible I was carrying. I remember the deacon’s song celebrating God’s life pouring into the world to heal the wound caused by human sin and our tragic tendency to choose self-interest over the common good. I remember realizing that the resurrection of Jesus was not something to be explained but something to be experienced. In the words of the Exsultet I heard God’s voice singing to me and to all who were present that night asking us to open our eyes so that we could see the resurrection all around us.
On Easter some people may expect a preacher to provide proof that God raised Jesus from the dead. All I can say to such seekers is this: Look around you. For two thousand years religious and political powers have sought to silence our proclamation that Christ is risen, whether by ridicule, persecution or social censure. But we are still here, the continuing embodiment on earth of the life of the risen Christ. All I can say to such seekers is this: Look around you. Consider the lives of men and women who for two thousand years have dared to live in the faith that life is stronger than death and that goodness is stronger than evil. And here we are, raising our voices in praise and giving ourselves in service to those so-called civil society often considers ‘collateral damage’ in North American culture’s fixation with the acquisition of more things, both tangible and intangible.
I take heart that as Notre Dame was burning, Christians from all over the world were praying and singing hymns on the other side of the river Seine. Prayers were offered for the firefighters and for the success of their efforts to bring the fire under control. A few prayers, I’m sure, were offered in hopes of a miraculous intervention. But the prayers of one man were that the bees would be safe. Bees give life and beauty to all of us, but they also make wax. I know that Christ is risen, that the Lord is risen indeed, because there will be wax for next year’s Paschal Candle at Notre Dame. Its light will pierce the darkness and the deacon will sing an ancient song to open our eyes to Christ’s risen life all around us even as the bees work quietly over our heads.
