EASTER YEASTER

Q. What did one mushroom say to the other?
A. I may not look like much, but I’m a fungi.

There are over 110,000 kinds of fungus on this planet. Probably a whole lot more. One of those 110,000 is called Saccharomyces Cerevisiae. Go ahead, say it out loud. Try to pronounce it. You can do it.

Now, you won’t catch Saccharomyces Cerevisiae growing fairy rings in your back yard. You won’t see it attaching itself to rotting logs on your next romp in the woods. The truth is, you won’t see it anywhere. Not anywhere. And yet, it’s everywhere.

Saccharomyces Cerevisiae (can you say it now?) is a microscopic fungus that loves sugar, warmth and wetness. Can you identify with that? One of its favorite places to set up shop is on, in and around ripe fruit: grapes, berries, oranges, apples. Saccharomyces Cerevisiae is not picky as long as it’s sweet, warm and wet. In Latin, the name literally means “sugar mold” or “sugar fungus.”

But once that petite sweet-lover finds some tasty real estate, watch out! There goes the neighborhood. Saccharomyces Cerevisiae may not look like much, but she is one passionately prolific party animal. When Saccharomyces Cerevisiae moves in, within minutes, there’s all kinds of excitement. All kinds of changes and exhanges. Molecules break out of their snooty and exclusive cliques and start scouting for new friends. Normally placid pools of water bubble and boil into fountains of magic. And in the process, juice becomes wine.

Saccharomyces Cerevisiae is what makes bread rise. It’s what produces that mouth-watering bouquet wherever bread is baking. Saccharomyces Cerevisiae is what makes beer, beer. Saccharomyces Cerevisiae is the first genome that has been entirely sequenced (meaning we have a full understanding of its DNA). And, from that research, scientists have discovered that little Saccharomyces Cerevisiae shares about 23% of its genomes with humans. No wonder we like warm, wet and sweet.
Just before he died, Jesus of Nazareth got his friends together for a Passover meal. A dinner party. Because he was a practicing Jew, he served bread and wine (though our little yeast friend got left out of the bread.) And, according to the story, he called the bread and wine, “my body and blood.” Could it be that Jesus felt a kinship with our little yeasty buddy?

Though it bothers the tea-totalers, it’s quite clear that Jesus’ first recorded miracle was turning water into wine. And at one point, Jesus told his followers, “I am the vine, you are the branches.” Jesus had a thing for wine. Picture the spirit of Jesus as yeast in life – a kind of cosmic Saccharomyces Cerevisiae. Invisible to the naked eye, ever present, carried on the wind and always in the business of transformation.

The word “ferment” literally means “to excite.” That’s what yeast does to any ripe fruit. Or to flour, sugar and water. Or grain. Yeast excites. Stirs things up. Changes the very nature of everything it touches.

Easter is one yeasty experience. (Gives a whole new meaning to, “He is risen!”) Easter is far more than a sectarian celebration. Its name comes from Eostre, the Germanic goddess of the dawn. It’s name and theological implication point to newness, transformation, hope, possibility. Infinite possibility. Easter is not just found in lily-scented churches. Not just where the right words or creeds are said or sung. Easter yeast blows through all creation: floating on the wind, splashing in the waves, stirring in the soil.

Want to celebrate? One suggestion: find that warm, wet and sweet place within you, allow yourself to be fermented with a little wonder, get up at dawn and shout a loud, “Hallelujah!”