What was that Morning Like?

Was it a morning like this....? ~ Jim Croegaert

I found out when I was in Kelowna that a Sandi Patti song that I play on Easter morning to celebrate was written by Jim Croegaert. I was surprised and yet not. Croegaert has written many of my favourite songs.

I think I first heard this song when my friend Barb shared it with me. Discernment, the 9 pm singing group at my church does it every Easter night. Easter does not seem like Easter without it.

One of the stories connected with this song is known only to a smaller group of people. At a point in my life, my friend Barb convinced me to take a clowning class with her. Violet and Twinkle were born. Twinkle aka Barb went on to a successful career. Violet aka moi was too shy to perform publicly very often but she has some memorable moments. One of these is attending a Triduum retreat weekend at what was the Villa Maria. It was one of her most powerful, transformative appearances.

On Easter Sunday, after infusing herself into the retreat up until that point with a mixture of humour and seriousness, Violet had her crowning moment. She hid in the sacristy of the little chapel while the retreatants gathered for what they thought would be a prayer time. Violet waited and then turned on the music to this song. She stepped out of the door and into the sanctuary. As she did so, she thought, “Just remember, you don’t Jesus is risen yet.” Suddenly, the enormity of the meaning of those words enveloped her and cut her to the depths. She wavered, trying to compose herself as a wave of sheer sorrow swept over her. She thought she would start sobbing and wondered if she should take a step backwards, back into the sacristy and compose herself. Then, from the audience, the small voice of the son of the director of the Villa, spoke, “Clown, sad.”

Yes, it was true. For the first time in my life, the meaning of Good Friday and Easter permeated my being. These two small words, softly and innocently spoken, got me back on track, and Violet stepped forward and began her liturgical dance. “Was it a morning like this when the sun still hid from Jerusalem? And Mary rose from her bed to tend the Lord she thought was dead.” Violet danced and ended triumphantly with Violet holding the linens high above her head. I was transformed as much as anyone watching that morning. The earth must have rejoiced to feel Jesus and pound that Christ had risen. Surely the grass must have sung for sheer joy!

Violet’s “performance” (though I would prefer to think of it as a prayer) was a huge success. The director caught up with me later and confessed in that opening moment, he was struck by the overwhelming sadness that Violet felt and almost started weeping himself. I think of that some Easter mornings—that great gift that is offered to us every year and I am humbled by the One who loves like no other.

Peace,

Suzanne