An Easter

Thursday
We were enjoying a supper with friends downstairs at The Runcible Spoon in Stokes Croft. The meal marked the first plantings of our community supported agriculture project on some land next to the M32. At about 9.30pm we became aware of activity outside, blue flashing lights, dogs, orders…The police had arrived, and not just a few. Wagon after wagon of these black clothed soldiers paraded in as darkness descended. A helicopter circled overhead. The night was warm and the people were restless.

Stokes Croft is an interesting place. It is home to many who are aware that the world is changing. Some are living radical lives in anticipation of a different type of society. And recently the focus has fallen on the arrival of a new Tesco Express in the area. Despite massive local objection planning permission was approved and for the last two weeks people have been leafleting outside the store.
But the police had not come about Tesco’s… apparently. They had come to evict four squatters from a house opposite the store. And they brought more than a hundred officers to do this. Apparently the squatters left quietly, but hundreds of people had turned out in response to the police presence.  Most were just watching and taking pictures, but a stage had been created, and it was not long before a few violent people took their moment in the spotlight.
It seemed to me that sinister forces were at work that night. Sometimes clothed in black, sometimes in the random acts of violent people, but beneath it all a deep clash of civilisations.
My wife and I were not tempted to stay after the meal. We walked away into the night.

Friday
We had a good Friday. It began with looking after the grandchildren. Playing on the lawn, finding newts in the pond and spotting sparrows building their nests. That didn’t quite work with church observance so I went down to the allotment after lunch for a period of contemplation.
I wanted to focus on the Great Sin, the terrible story of our human relationship with the earth. I wanted to think about Jesus as the last in the line of the prophets, coming from God, and as God, to announce a new world order. I began to think about his chosen means to do this. The night in the garden, the trial before the authorities… It seemed a very different path from the violence of the night before. Around me was creation. Tiny seedling carrots making their way through the dry earth.  Hopeful young onions reaching to the sky. Broads beans in first flower. It was a rich scene, but I soon fell asleep and was sorry that I had failed in my grand contemplative hopes.

Saturday
We took down a hedge in our front garden to let more light in. This led to new conversations with passers by, especially some others who are growing in public spaces on the street near our house. I realise that we are a tiny community engaged in land reform, acting on a minute scale, and approved by the council, who are pleased that someone is caring for the land.

Sunday
We went into the city. It was early, around 5.30, and the sun was just rising. The seagulls were joining forces with council officers to clear up the streets from the previous night’s engorgement. In the quietness of the morning, we went into the back entrance of the Great Cathedral and were ushered through to a blazing fire in the garden there. A paschal candle was lit. Then we walked into the nave with candles and proclaimed,  ‘Christ is risen’, followed by a glorious liturgy, with a great fanfare on the organ, announcing the event.
It was good, but from where I come from, something was missing.  I longed for more acknowledgement of resurrection in relationship to creation. Why was it not more obvious, as Tom Wright insists, that this moment of resurrection was the first act of the new creation? Now that would be something.

Chris

(for a good account of events in Stokes Croft)
night photo by stringberd

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