The elusive hare
One of the many blessings of the spring is the reappearance of that most mysterious of countryside creatures, the hare. Part of their appeal lies, I think, in elusiveness and movement: barrelling along a lane at night, ahead of us as we drive, or veering across the hillside. We were walking this weekend through an ocean of woodland bluebells, when Effie, our dog, startled a hare (almost the size of a muntjac) mere yards away and off it tore, confounding all attempts at pursuit. Always on the move, they are an Easter marvel.
I was reminded of the hare’s dynamism when reading St Mark’s account of the resurrection, which that evangelist conveys not as a fact to be proved, or puzzle to be solved, but as a mysterious kind of movement. “He has been raised; he is not here”, declares the angel to the women at the tomb. “He is going ahead of you to Galilee”. At which their first response, not unreasonably, is terrified flight, before doing as the angel bade them and relating this to the apostles.
Faith, in this light, is our pursuit of the Christ who goes before us. Rejoicing whenever we encounter him, walking his way and hoping earnestly to see him again.
Bishop Andrew
