[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 149 (2003), Part 7]
[Senate]
[Pages 9569-9570]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]




                                 EASTER

  Mr. BYRD. Mr. President, the Senate will soon recess. Members will 
travel. Many will go home, meet with constituents, visit with friends, 
and attend Rotary Club lunches, Veterans of Foreign Wars rallies, and 
other important civic events. Some members will travel overseas, 
visiting U.S. troops and military facilities around the world in order 
to get a first-hand look at conditions and morale, or meeting with U.S. 
embassy personnel for detailed assessments of world events. After the 
contentious debates and harried schedules of past weeks on Capitol 
Hill, some Members may just relax and enjoy the beauty of spring. 
Spring, ah spring.
  Spring is such a gentle season. The air is soft, the earth is moist, 
the new leaves and blades of grass are tender, not like the superheated 
air of summer that parches the earth, toughening leaves and drying 
lawns into crispy, crunchy deserts. Even the colors of springtime are 
gentle, all soft purples, buttery yellows and pale pinks of lilac, 
daffodil, and hyacinth. Only later, in the summer sun, come the vibrant 
oranges, deep reds, and gaudy color mixes of sun- and heat-loving 
flowers like marigolds, zinnia, and geranium.
  In this most gentle of seasons, the contrast between the beauty 
outdoors and the images saturating the airwaves is difficult to 
reconcile. Images of war waged in distant cities in a distant land, of 
gunfire, bombs, of ambushes, of sudden death and the loss and anguish 
of families both here and there, do not seem to match the mood of 
springtime, with its message of birth and life and growth. But the 
holiday that Christians celebrate this season contains all of these 
paradoxes. Easter is tragedy and loss, capture and death, as well as 
rebirth and new life, life everlasting.
  The story of Easter is monumental. It is theater for the ages, 
unmatched by Sophocles, Euripides, or Shakespeare, because it is true. 
Easter is the history of one man, his life and death highlighted in the 
annals of history as few individuals are. Though full of miracles 
beyond wonder and betrayal beyond believing, the story of Jesus of 
Nazareth ends on a stirring note of hope. His death, the price of life 
everlasting for mankind, offers solace and hope to the families who 
have lost sons and daughters, husbands and wives,

[[Page 9570]]

during Operation Iraqi Freedom. Indeed, the Easter story offers comfort 
to all of us.
  When you have lived as long as I have, and when you have been as 
blessed as I to have and have had many good friends over the years, you 
must also live with the loss of those friends and loved ones. Not a day 
passes but that the untimely loss of my grandson Michael does not make 
my heart ache. It was 21 years ago this coming Monday. Recently, my 
colleague and good friend, the former Senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan, 
passed away at the age of 76. I miss him. There is where he sat--there. 
At that desk at the end of the back row. That is where he sat, I miss 
him. I miss my faithful and loving little dog Billy, who died last 
year. All things in this life must pass. But their memories warm my 
heart and their friendship is etched in the laugh lines on my face. My 
belief in the Creator and in his promise of life everlasting in his 
presence gives me support and comfort.

     Though nothing can bring back the hour
     Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
     We will grieve not, rather find
     Strength in what remains behind;
     In the primal sympathy
     Which having been must ever be;
     In the soothing thoughts that spring
     Out of human suffering;
     In the faith that looks through death,
     In years that bring the philosophic mind.

  The poet William Wordsworth wrote that, in his ode, ``Intimation of 
Immortality.''
  This coming Sunday is Palm Sunday, marking the triumphal entry into 
Jerusalem by Jesus, our blessed Lord. It is a joyous day, but shadowed 
now by the foreknowledge of what is to come on Maundy Thursday, Good 
Friday and Holy Saturday--dark, sad days relieved by the miracle of 
Easter Sunday. On Easter Sunday, our spirits are lifted by the wondrous 
news of the resurrection and the ascension. Those are uplifting words: 
resurrection and ascension, rebirth and, for Jesus, a homecoming to sit 
at the right hand of the Father, His Father. My Father. Your Father.
  On Easter Sunday, surrounded by fresh spring flowers, pretty Easter 
dresses and baskets of brightly colored Easter eggs, we again see 
Spring in its best light. We see it in the light of renewal and hope. 
We see it in the amazing story of Private Jessica Lynch of Palestine, 
WV. The State of West Virginia, and the entire nation, rejoices in her 
safe recovery. Her homecoming will be a day to remember forever. My 
thanks, and the Nation's thanks, go out to the brave and honorable 
Iraqi nationals who risked so much to bring her aid and the daring 
service personnel who rescued her.
  Mr. President, a poem that I memorized long, long years ago reminds 
us all of how we are touched by the presence of others:

     A Persian fable says:

     One day a wanderer found a piece of clay,
     So redolent of perfume
     Its odor scented all the room.
     ``What are thou?'' was the quick demand;
     ``Art thou some gem of Samarcand?
     Or spikenard rare in rich disguise,
     Or other costly merchandise?''
     ``Nay, I am but a piece of clay,''
     ``Then whence this wondrous sweetness, pray?''
     ``Friend, if the secret I disclose,
     I have been dwelling with the rose.''
     Sweet parable! And will not those
     Who love to dwell with Sharon's rose,
     Distill sweet odors all around,
     Though low and mean themselves be found?
     Dear Lord, abide with us, that we
     May draw our perfume fresh from thee.

  Mr. President, the rose that has perfumed this humble piece of clay 
is my wife Erma. In 49 more days, God willing, we will celebrate 66 
years of marriage. It has not all been a level voyage. There have been 
ups and downs, as there will be in every marriage, but they have been 
good years, filled with many Easter mornings.
  And now, as I look forward to watching my great-grandchildren hunt 
for their Easter eggs in the green grass, I am grateful for the 
opportunity to see so many generations grow up. My sense of hope for 
the future is redoubled, as it is each Easter time.
  It must have been at Easter time when William Jennings Bryan penned 
those words from ``The Prince of Peace:''

     If the Father deigns to touch with divine power the cold and 
           pulseless heart of the buried acorn and to make it 
           burst forth from its prison walls, will he leave 
           neglected in the earth the soul of man, made in the 
           image of his Creator?
     If he stoops to give to the rosebush, whose withered blossoms 
           float upon the autumn breeze, the sweet assurance of 
           another springtime, will He refuse the words of hope to 
           the son of men when the frosts of winter come?
     If matter, mute and inanimate, tho changed by the forces of 
           nature into a multitude of forms, can never die, will 
           the imperial spirit of man suffer annihilation when it 
           has paid a brief visit like a royal guest to his 
           tenement of clay?
     No, I am sure that He who, notwithstanding his apparent 
           prodigality, created nothing without a purpose, and 
           wasted not a single atom in all his creation, has made 
           provision for a future life in which man's universal 
           longing for immortality will find its realization.

  I am as sure that we live again as I am sure that we live today.
  So my sense of hope for the future is redoubled, as it is each Easter 
time. That is the beauty of Easter, because that typifies the glorious 
promise which is ours and which the Saviour gave to us. That question, 
which was asked in the Book of Job: ``If a man die, shall he live 
again?'' is answered--answered--by Easter.
  I recall, in the Book of John, Jesus came to the grave of Lazarus and 
said: ``Lazarus, come forth.'' And Lazarus came forth, still wrapped in 
his grave clothes. And Jesus said: ``Loose him, and let him go.''
  So in the midst of war there is life. In the midst of uncertainty 
there is faith. After each winter, there is spring.
  Mr. President, I wish you and all of our colleagues a glorious 
Easter. May we ponder upon its meaning, and upon its reason, and upon 
its promise for us.
  I yield the floor and suggest the absence of a quorum.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. The clerk will call the roll.
  The assistant legislative clerk proceeded to call the roll.
  Mr. DODD. Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that the order for 
the quorum call be rescinded.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. Without objection, it is so ordered.

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