Butterflies Will Soon Be Free

I was away for part of this week at a retreat center on the shores of Lake Erie.  The retreat was conducted by my religious order, the Brothers and Sisters of the Way, an order for ordained clergy.  Our retreats are  precious times, filled with good conversation, much laughter, powerful readings and worship, and treasured times of extended silence.

One morning, one of the retreatants came in through the back door and said, "Guys, you've got to see this.  There are hundreds and hundreds of butterflies out here!"  We all rushed out the door and there, covering three or four trees were indeed many, many monarch butterflies, no doubt resting in the midst of their migration south.  It was a beautiful sight.  It was a hopeful sight.  Monarchs are facing certain environmental challenges these days, and it was good to see them--so many of them!

Butterflies are a traditional sign of resurrection.  The transformation that happens in the dark of their cocoons is reminiscent of the transformation that took place (however we understand it) in the darkness of the tomb that first Easter.  In fact, the night before we spotted the butterflies we had sung Natalie Sleeth's delightful hymn, "In the Bulb There is a Flower."  A hymn that speaks of the various metaphors we have created over the centuries for resurrection, including the line, "in cocoons, a hidden promise; butterflies will soon be free!"

I don't know about you, but I need every sign of hope I can get these days.  I need every reminder that God is at work, even when it doesn't seem very obvious.  I need every assurance that even when it seems that hatred and fear are winning the struggle for the hearts and souls of humanity, love is still silently at work, bringing about transformation in the lives of people everywhere.