On the Paschal Moon

Have you ever noticed that there is always a full moon around the lead up to Easter? That is by design and this specific full moon is called the Paschal Moon.

The date of Easter is determined by a somewhat cumbersome calculation: the first Sunday after the first full moon after the vernal (spring) equinox, using Jerusalem as the meridian for the equation.

(Related note: Since Orthodox churches use the Julian calendar and the Western churches use the Gregorian calendar, there are often two different dates for Easter, despite both using the Paschal Moon in the calculus. Meanwhile, the Jewish calendar is used for the calculation of Passover, so those dates do not always align with Easter as well.)

It is popular to talk about Christianity taking pagan practices related to the sun and moon, and recasting them in the framework of the Christian faith. However, those conversations tend to be fairly flippant and ignore the spiritual benefits of having holidays semi-attached to the natural world. Perhaps early Christ-followers realized the special beauty in having the most sacred seasons of the Church Year connected to our common, earthly realities.

We know that the moon has the power to stir the ocean tides, stabilize our climate, disturb sleep patterns, and affect mental health. It is our friendly companion in the skies, accompanying us when the sun has set. It deserves a special place in our heart and can help us be fully grounded in our human existence. We must not worship the moon, sun, stars, or planets—yet we can sense the presence of the Divine through the marvels of the heavens.

A full Paschal Moon seems to be a fitting way to close out Lent and travel through Holy Week. Like the moon, God is pulling us and motivating us in mysterious ways through this most holy time of the year. And, like the first smells and sights of spring happening this time of year (in the Northern Hemisphere anyway), we know something remarkable is about to take place, even if the nights are still cold.

In the scriptures of Holy Week there are a remarkable number of references to nature. Among them: Jesus on the way into Jerusalem proclaiming that stones have the ability to cry out; the cursing and withering of a fig tree; predictions about the end times jam-packed with forecasts of climate change; and finally skies darkening and the earth quaking when the Jesus dies on the cross. (Mark 11-13, 15; Luke 19-21, 23; Matthew 21-24, 27)

So, look up at the Paschal Moon this Holy Week and consider that this moon has seen the Christ descend once before, into our earthly world. It has seen that same Christ do miracles and good works, only to be betrayed, tortured, and killed. It has also seen that Christ rise from the dead. And it waits patiently for that same Christ to come again.

That moon has seen waves of humanity come and go, live and die, love and hate, make peace and wage war. It has seen humanity look up at it and question their existence and purpose—from Adam to Jesus, Moses to Peter, Miriam to Mary, and Cain to Judas.

Of course, this is a all a bit of an exercise in personification. The moon is but the moon and not a living being. Yet, somehow through a healthy communion with the natural world we are drawn closer to the Divine.