On Sunday April 21, Christians celebrated Easter, the resurrection of Jesus Christ, and the founding of their faith. The churches fill to overflowing because even the not-so-regular church goers turn up. That’s how significant it is in Christian life. It is also a celebration of victory of life over death and triumph of the just.

Jesus Christ went through a whole range of experiences familiar to most human beings. He was betrayed by a very close associate with whom he had just shared supper. He was unjustly accused, tried and executed. His conviction was secured by the manipulation of an influential elite and the actions of a mob. He was tortured, humiliated and finally put to death. Then he rose from the dead.

It is remarkable how the recent history of Rwanda mirrors the events of the Easter period. It falls roughly during the time the Genocide against the Tutsi was committed in 1994, a time when the nation died but also resurrected.

And so Easter should resonate with Rwandans in more ways than mere religious observance. Our spiritual and secular lives are so tied together by this historical co-occurrence that the result should be a stronger nation in which the value and respect for human life is supreme.

But I often wonder whether, when we celebrate Easter, this link is in the minds of many Rwandan Christians. Do we see it only as a historical event of two thousand years ago in a distant place whose only connection to us is as a pathway to personal salvation and life in heaven? Or do we see another, more earthly link with which we can readily identify?

These questions come from observing behaviour during the period leading up to Easter.

On Good Friday, believers follow the Way of the Cross. They go through the stages of Christ’s suffering and appear to share the pain. Some of them cry, and others so chastened by the experience that they seem broken.

Of course, it hurts to see an innocent person unfairly accused, made to suffer and then killed. It is only natural that decent people will be moved by such suffering and enraged by the injustice.

Again, I sometimes wonder whether they feel the same pain for fellow human beings much closer to them, much more like them: neighbours, friends, or workmates.

Perhaps proximity and immediacy of feeling make it uncomfortable to share the pain because we would get personally involved. Or maybe time and distance make it easier to bear the pain because we are spared the rawness of suffering. We are able to feel the pain of many centuries ago because it does not involve us directly. We numb ourselves to that which is close because we do not want any responsibility in it.

Easter is preceded by forty days of fasting during which devout Christians abstain from all or some food and drink. Some do it in order to focus their thoughts on God and draw near to him. Others fast because it helps them realise how helpless and fragile they are and how dependent they are on things beyond themselves. Many more do it as atonement for sins and other shortcomings.

It is supposed to be a time of deep reflection and prayer and a springboard for renewal. But as with many things, practice and purpose are often different. And so, questions come to mind again.

When people give up food, drink or other pleasures, do they do it simply as religious observance or conviction? What do they do with what they give up, or is the act of giving up enough in itself?

Do they fast so that the rest of us can see how pious they are? Isn’t piety a virtue that does not need external validation?

And the sins atoned for, are they only those we commit in our privacy, alone, or do they include those we commit collectively, or even those of others?

Then comes Easter Sunday and we celebrate Christ’s victory. The suffering and pain are forgotten in the joy of resurrection. It’s all: Christ is risen and Alleluia, and goodwill all around. Should it end with those words of rejoicing and triumph only, or should it extend to everyday, ordinary lives?

Easter is, of course, a deep spiritual experience and I am not an expert in such matters. That’s why I have only raised questions and provided no answers. However, I also think that spiritual matters are not for another place and a different time. They are of this place and now, and cannot be separated from our daily experiences. Indeed it is this that informs the depth and genuineness of spiritual life.

Easter is also a celebration of an actual historical event and its connection to another one in the history of this country should deepen our spiritual life, enrich our relations with one another, and hold supreme the value we attach to human life.

The views expressed in this article are of the author.