Easter matters.
If there was any doubt, this year makes it very clear. My dad died 16 years ago on this date, and it matters to us to have a different story ending than just loss. I am personally limited and weary and awkwardly impaired, and that's not going away in any discernible timeline. The world is spinning into more atrocity of war in Europe, and it's hard to even keep straight the attacks in our neighbouring countries in this continent, or the floods and droughts. We need resurrection, not as a theoretical unseen unknowable theological postulate but as a force that exploded one grave and now marches out into every corner of our globe and life.
Because there is nothing we can do to save ourselves, to rescue my vision or protect our team when trucks of soldiers are rumbling towards the border, or smooth all the conflicts or cure all the fevers. It's outside of our capacity. And Easter says, that's OK, because God saw, and came, and acted.
So here in Bundi, we started the day well before sunrise like the women worried about Jesus' body, preparing coffee and cinnamon rolls and walking out to the football pitch to await the light and our team. We sang and listened to Jesus' words about himself, and celebrated. Then to a church that became more packed with ever hour, to be reminded by Pastor Mike that the power of the resurrection is real and effective and universe-changing. Even though our problems are not demonstrably removed, Jesus stood up and exited the grave and in his wounded body quietly sparked a complete reversal of entropy.
2 comments:
My sister was widowed in September. Clarissa Moll (a younger widow) she follows said this morning, "I never understood the sheer audacity of Jesus's promises until the day I stood at the fresh grave of the man I love."
Your sharing this morning is equally viscerally hope inspiring in the midst of...
"We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure."
Thank you.
Deborah
Thank you for continuing to share your world and your faith.
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