by Rev Paul Graham
Anniversaries are funny old things: a bone of contention when a spouse forgets, a day of celebration or a day of sadness, a time for joy or a time for regret, all these and more packed into a moment in time when we look backwards. Because that’s what anniversaries do; they make us hark back, to recall what the world looked like then, or try to empathise if the commemorated event occurred before our times.
They’re also deeply personal; even national anniversaries like Remembrance Day in November resonates in every life uniquely. We might all together observe the two-minute silence, but we will have our own reasons, our own histories, our own responses to the events that are being remembered. Those of us who are post-war babies will have been shaped by those who experienced World Wars first-hand, either through active participation or because they kept the home fires burning.
And then there are the anniversaries that are personal, rooted in family or individual. The anniversary of a wedding, birth, death, or any other of the myriad ways we mark the passing of time – all of these may not resonate far beyond the family, but are all meaningful and a cause to reflect with a tear or a smile.
During this current pandemic, anniversaries are starting to come thick and fast; we’ve already passed the first anniversary of the first lockdown, and we’re rapidly approaching the first anniversary of “Clap For Carers”. Pretty soon it’ll be the anniversary of the first attempt to leave lockdown, followed by “Eat Out To Help Out” and then the second lockdown, then the third one and so on until we start the second anniversaries.
But hopefully it won’t be too long before some of these anniversaries fade into the distance once we work out what post-COVID-19 life defines as normal for us. Maybe all of them will disappear totally like the Spanish flu pandemic or the Black Death, becoming answers in history exams rather than dates in the diary. Certainly, it feels like we’re living in times that will form large chunks of the history syllabus in generations to come (to the pandemic, I would add Brexit and Donald Trump’s presidency as events of the past five years that will become classroom topics).
Of course, Christianity, like all faiths, has its own anniversaries that have long outlived the original participants (well, the earthly ones at least). But unlike other faiths, Christianity’s anniversaries resonate far beyond the confines of its walls and followers. Though Passover and Holi occur at this time of year, it is to Christianity that the chocoholics of this country will owe a debt of thanks, even if bunnies are largely absent from all gospel accounts of Holy Week.
There are other anniversaries to come; it won’t be long until we reach Ascension Day and shortly afterwards, Pentecost. As the church’s “birthday”, the day of Pentecost serves as a reminder that God’s gift of the Holy Spirit is offered to anyone and everyone.
And that’s the thing about anniversaries; though they are markers in the diary, they are just another day like any other. We may remember our wedding anniversary, but that doesn’t mean that we’re not married on any other day. Likewise, we may remember the fallen of the World Wars, but that doesn’t mean that they only matter on a certain day in November; the echoes of those long-finished conflicts still resonate around us each and every day in one form or the other. And even as we mark off the twelve months since COVID-19 affected so much of our lives, we still live in the reality of a world changed, for many, irrevocably.
But anniversaries, such as Easter (and Pentecost) remind us that God who was involved in human history then is still involved today. And that’s something worth celebrating – with chocolate!
