Good morning and many condolences to Wake Forest fans [the evening before, Wake Forest had lost to West Virginia 111-105 in two overtimes].  This has been quite a week.  This past Thursday morning I left for work at my usual time, 5 a.m.  A soft rain fell on my little red Bug as I turned onto I-40 near Baptist Hospital.  But by the time I reached Hwy 311 heading toward High Point, snow and sleet had begun to pelt my car.  When I reached High Point, the road turned quickly to an icy slush, and eventually I followed a semi to my turnoff, doing 40 mph.  Then, by 10 a.m., it was snowing so hard, I couldn’t see the other businesses across the street.  I left work around 2 p.m. and the sun was out—all the snow was gone—a little humor from Mother Nature?

This time of year, it is hard to figure out North Carolina weather patterns, but one thing is for sure:  Twice each year the sun will cross the equator, and day and night everywhere will be equal in length.  In ancient times people recognized the importance of this day and included this date as one of eight holidays called Sabbats that were associated with nature’s calendar.

Now some of you might ask, So what?  How could the equinox make my life today more meaningful—a life increasingly molded by the speed of microprocessors . . . by the incessant noise of cell phone ring tones.  Let me suggest:  Long after microprocessors become obsolete, long after our children’s children ask, “What’s a cell phone?”  there will be an equinox.  So I invite you now, take a deep breath, open your mind, suspend the chatter of your brain and consider:  Tomorrow, March 21, is the vernal equinox.  Tomorrow you and every other person on this planet will share an equal amount of daylight and the same amount of darkness.

The word vernal means “hastening the flowering and fruiting of plants by treating seeds”, so the equinox calls us to open our eyes and really experience what is naturally around us.  Mother Nature is waking up:
    – Have you noticed between cell phone ring tones that the daffodils are starting to open?
    – Have you noticed while you’re racing around town that trees are starting to come to life after a long winter sleep?
    – And yes, have you noticed it is allergy season again!

Funny, I never think about great literature or poetry that eulogizes this age of microprocessors and light-speed computing.  But I do think about great literature and poetry that eulogizes the seasons, like these lines from Milton’s “Paradise Lost”:

A happy rural seat of various view:
Groves whose rich trees wept odorous gums and balm;
Others whose fruit, burnished with golden rind,
Hung amiable—Hesperian fables true,        (Western)
If true, here only—and of delicious taste….
Betwixt them lawns, or level downs, and flocks
Grazing the tender herb, were interposed,
Or palmy hillock; or the flowery lap
Of some irriguous valley spread her store,    (moistened)   
Flowers of all hue, and without thorn the rose….
Another side, umbrageous grots and caves    (grottos/caves)
Of cool recess, o’er which the mantling vine
Lays forth her purple grape, and gently creeps
Luxuriant; meanwhile murmuring waters fall
Down the slope hills dispersed, or in a lake,
That to the fringed bank with myrtle crowned
Her crystal mirror holds, unite their streams…..
The birds their choir apply; airs, vernal airs,
Breathing the smell of field and grove, attune
The trembling leaves, while universal Pan,
Knit with the Graces and Hours in dance,
Led on th’ eternal spring.*

Easter is the national holiday most associated with the vernal equinox; and next Sunday, Charlie will be talking about Easter, using the metaphor “darkness to light”.  Today, I am going to share with you some of my own experiences of Easter from my Pagan heritage.  You see, my great-grandmother Warmbreathe was a Native American from Chief Joseph’s Nez Perce tribe in the far northwestern part of the U.S.  My mother met my father during WWII.  He was German American, she was Native American, and it was a time of great fear—fear of Germans, fear of people with darker skin, fear of concentration camps for Japanese Americans.  It is no wonder Mother hid her heritage.  It wasn’t until the last few years of her life that I was able to get Mom talking.  She always said we had a “little” Indian blood.  She never told us until her final years that her grandmother was half Native American, and as a child she was the hit of the neighborhood for having a real, white tepee in her backyard.

But why do I view my Native American roots as “pagan”?  Many years ago I began to seek more knowledge of my family and discovered that written accounts and family stories provided only limited experiences of Native American life.  I attended local powwows but felt like an outsider.  I called the Nez Perce tribal headquarters, but no one knew my ancestors’ names.  Written records were not kept that far back, and besides, as a Native American receptionist informed me, “There is no more land available”.   It wasn’t until I learned about a local Pagan Open Circle that met here in our fellowship hall that I discovered what I was seeking.  Later, I discovered the UU Fellowship nationally had chartered the Covenant of UU Pagans (CUUPS) in 1987 to foster healing relationships with our mother, the Earth. 

But before I could embrace this Pagan group,  I had to get over my own preconceived ideas about Paganism.  For instance, I learned that the meaning of the word pagan was country dweller.  But it’s a word that has been demonized due in part to one of the largest Pagan groups that follow Wicca traditions and call themselves witches.  And please, I’m not talking about the actress Michelle Gellar’s role as Buffy, the TV vampire killer.  The Bible was probably the first book to associate the word witch with evil and ever since, witchcraft has been associated with devil worshiping.  In pre-Christian society, older women held the healing knowledge in the community.  People sought them out for herbs and potions to help with ailments.  But with the rise of power in growing trade centers, religious leaders wanted country people to come to the cities for healing.  So these older Pagan women who knew child birthing and herbal cures and wanted only the best for everyone became known as witches.

Today, the local Pagan community is a synthesis of many belief systems, and I can assure you I never once met a devil worshiper.  What I did meet was a group of people like myself who were searching for meaning and a way to make a positive contribution to their lives.  I visited many Pagan websites and found that the Pagan community was even willing to laugh at itself.  For instance, one site asked, “What’s a cold evil candle called?  The wicked wick of the North.”   And this, “You know the best thing about having Pagan friends?  They worship the ground you walk on.” 

For me, the challenge was to sift through the various Pagan belief systems to identify beliefs that both resonated with my own spirit and were traditionally Native American.  For example, Pagan as well as Native American ceremonies often begin by honoring the earth and blessing the four directions:  [East—Kavyo Motsinger; South—Colin Forbes-Robinson; West—Patty Goodrich; North—David Crump: “ Spirit of the North, I invite your cleansing and purifying power.  Teach me courage and the way of the White Eagle.”] 

As you heard, some of these blessings were associated with certain beneficial attributes.  Prayers might be directed towards these directions to help an individual assume these benefits.  But after years of association with Pagan open circles, covens and Native American powwows, I’ve come to the conclusion that among the various belief systems, there is little agreement about which attribute is associated with each direction.  So to me it is clear, the point is not the specific attributes or even the way a particular direction is addressed.  What is important is learning to honor and respect our own beliefs and let the seasons be a time to stop and remember our mother, the Earth.

The Easter holiday itself is apparently named after the Pagan goddess Eostre, an Anglo-Saxon virgin Goddess of fertility who wanted to sow seeds for the future.  The Latin name for Eostre is derived from the Greek with roots in a word that means “frenzy.”  We see this word in estrus, meaning a female mammal “in heat” and able to conceive.  In fact, we see the mystery of conception interwoven into many of the early religious ceremonies.  We all might share disdain when early Jewish history tells us that followers were thrown out of the temple when they were found fornicating.  But what if these early Jewish religious followers were simply honoring the mystery of creation in a way no longer acceptable?

Periodically, we read that since Easter is named after a Pagan goddess, perhaps we should not celebrate.  But if we follow this logic, then the very names of the days of the week are doomed because several of the names were borrowed from Pagan mythology:  For example:  Wednesday—Wodin’s Day—Woden was the chief Teutonic god, leader of the Wild Hunt.  The name itself is derived from Wod, meaning “violently insane.”  (I guess ancient people knew what it was like be in the middle of a long workweek.)  Friday—Freya’s Day—Freya is the Teutonic goddess of love, beauty, and prolific procreation.  (If you think this is too far out, try taking a stroll down Burke Street here in Winston-Salem about midnight one Friday night.)

The idea of honoring our Earth in relationship to celestial bodies evolved over time as people began to recognize the relationships between the sun and moon.  In northern England, archeoastronomers have discovered that Stonehenge was built in part to predict solar and lunar events, information needed for the survival of the community.  More recently, a National Geographic program suggested that architectural engineers believe the sheer size of Stonehenge was designed so worshipers could feel what it might be like to be in the presence of the Creator. This same idea can be found in later European and U.S. cathedrals as people chose to worship indoors and be less at the mercy of the weather.

So my own personal spiritual search challenged me to be open and look again at old stereotypes, to redefine evil and loose more of my own narrow-mindedness.  Along the way, I began to realize the importance of the seasons in my own life. 

Yes, our day-to-day weather will keep changing just like technology; but like the sunrise and sunset, the equinox will be with us for some time.  And tomorrow, sharing an equal amount of daylight and darkness will inextricably link you to every other person on this planet.  So the next time you wonder, Will my life ever slow down? remember:  Your mother the Earth is here to remind you of truly enduring qualities if you just slow down and remember what fuels the words of great writers and poets, like these closing words from Rumi’s “Spring Giddiness”:

Today, like every other day, we wake up empty
and frightened.  Don’t open the door to the study
and begin reading.  Take down a musical instrument.
Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don’t go back to sleep.
You must ask for what you really want.
Don’t go back to sleep.
People are going back and forth across the doorsill
Where the two worlds touch.
The door is round and open.
Don’t go back to sleep.

I would love to kiss you.
The price of kissing is your life.
Now my loving is running toward my life shouting,
What a bargain, let’s buy it.

Daylight, full of small dancing particles
and the one great turning, our souls
are dancing with you, without feet, they dance.
Can you see them when I whisper in your ear?

All day and night, music,
a quiet, bright
reedsong.  If it
fades, we fade.**

* Paradise Lost, Book IV, lines 208-68.
** Excerpted from The Essential Rumi, translations by Coleman Barks with John Moyne, 1995.