Category: Easter

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It’s Friday, And Yet, There is Hope

About fifteen months ago, I wrote this post. In the time since then, my friend was diagnosed with cancer and went to her rest with the Father last month, the mother of the other friend has recovered from the stroke, the stresses of the faith community continue, and Jan’s HD continues to progress. On top of that, in the fall, I was diagnosed with prostate cancer and have been receiving radiation for the past six weeks, finishing yesterday.

On what we call Good Friday, the followers of Jesus in first century Palestine didn’t feel hopeful. The man they thought was going to bring deliverance from the Roman oppressors and set up his kingdom was being forced to carry his cross outside of the city of Jerusalem to the hill on which he would be crucified. The crowd that had chanted Hosanna earlier in the week, had largely forgotten him. Some had even turned on him and called for his death at the hands of the Romans, stating that Caesar was their king rather than the man from Nazareth.

Most of his disciples were in hiding, and the ones that followed him to the cross were the women who had been with him. Whether hiding or openly at the cross, the disciples must have felt hopeless. All of their dreams of the past three years seem to have been shattered by the whips that flogged their teacher and the nails that were pounded into his hands and feet. He was going to die, and it seemed as if the promised kingdom was a myth. All that was left for them was to go back to their old lives, pick up as many of the pieces as they could, and try to carry on.

Roughly two thousand years later, we know the rest of the story. Jesus came out of that tomb, and commisioned his followers to spread his teachings and his kingdom throughout the world. Their hope was not only renewed, but it was expanded to a hope beyond this earthly existence. The King promised that he would return and set everything right. That hope is what has carried the followers of King Jesus through the centuries, and what carries us today.

We have hope. Hope that creation will be restored and will have a glory even greater than in the beginning. Hope that we will one day be reunited with loved ones who have gone before. Hope that our frail bodies will be resurrected and made completely whole, without all the problems we deal with now, including having to eat gluten free (inside joke). Hope that we will no longer have to deal with the struggles with temptation and sin. We have hope that everything sad will come untrue.

Christ is risen! This is where you say, “He is risen indeed!” This Eastertide, rejoice that, because Christ is risen we too shall be raised. We will be like him because we will see him as he is.

Hallelujah!

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Eastertide Thoughts

It has been one week since those of us in the western church celebrated Easter. The Orthodox tradition will celebrate Easter on May 2 this year. Eastertide is the period between Easter Sunday and Pentecost, so the celebration continues in many churches for a full 50 days. Personally, I think that’s a good idea.

This year, I’ve been doing much more thinking about the importance of Easter to those of us who follow the One who was raised from the dead. I think a 50 day celebration of the event that changed history is something that should be practiced much more than it is now.

This has been a momentous year for many of us, with a lot of things happening that caused us to think about what is really important and about the brevity of our lives here on this earth. A little over a year ago, I had a heart attack. Within a couple of weeks, everything was locked down because of a deadly virus. We didn’t get to celebrate Easter in person last year. We didn’t get to do a whole lot of anything in person last year.

We saw the number of cases and deaths grow as the year went on, and very few of us didn’t at least know someone who caught the virus. Add to this what seemed to be the death of reason and understanding in the civil discourse in this country, and the year looked more bleak as it dragged on. We made it to the end of the year, but the future looked very uncertain.

In some ways the future is looking better. In other ways, there is still turmoil and uncertainty. Personally, my health is much better now, but there are things that have happened to keep the realities of life in a broken world in the forefront. From friends and neighbors who have cancer to friends whose parents have fallen ill, from families that are broken to our small town reeling from a senseless murder and suicide, there is much to make one wonder if there really are any answers.

There are many questions that we may never have answered fully. There are some that may not be answered at all. That is why Eastertide this year has become meaningful to me. I believe that Easter is the answer. We may not have all the details filled in for us, but Easter means that death has been brought down, had all its teeth kicked out, and ground into the dust in defeat.

Because King Jesus rose from the dead and inaugurated his kingdom, I know that my friends with cancer will unltimately be healed and will live in the new creation. I know that there will be peace on earth and the swords will be beaten into plowshares, and there will be no war. I know that there will be no hatred or murder, no struggle over possessions, or arguments over ideas. There will be no cancer, heart trouble, Alzheimer’s or Huntington’s Disease. Every tear will be wiped away and everything sad will become untrue.

Let us rejoice and feast! Break out the champagne! There is nothing worth celebrating more than the fact that death has lost its sting, and the grave has no victory. It is not the end yet, but it will be all right in the end. Hallelujah! Christ is risen!

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Thoughts on Easter 2020

The Easter season was a bit different this year. Instead of gathering in person with our brothers and sisters to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus, we gathered around our computer for a livestream service via Zoom. In stead of greeting dear friends with a hug, we waved to the images on the screen. Instead of getting together with friends or family for a feast, we had an Easter dinner for two in our dining room. It was a very good day, and I am grateful for what we were able to do, but it was different, in a strange way.

The coronavirus pandemic, which has devastated much of the world, has changed the way we do just about everything. Many people have been at home for a number of weeks, as “shelter in place” becomes the norm. The great majority of churches have closed their doors, either meeting on line, watching services on television, or not meeting at all. Businesses have been forced to close, and social distancing has forced upon us a new way of relating with each other.

Jan and I found some positive things coming out of an Easter weekend during time of quarantine. We gathered on line with friends Thursday for an altered Seder, followed by an online Maundy Thursday service. Friday evening we watched a Tenebrae service online, and Saturday found us experiencing an Anglican Easter vigil on line. Even though we didn’t do the things we normally do this time of year, we were able to experience a little of the breadth of the the Christian tradition’s celebration of the resurrection.

As the pandemic continues, many of the things we have taken for granted will have to be abandoned or revamped. The ways we work, shop, relate to others, and do church may look totally different in the days ahead. I think that will turn out to be a good thing. There are things that we need to change as individuals, families, churches, nations. As we come to grips with what is really important in our lives, we can become more understanding people, who treat each other as persons made in the image of God. As we learn to work together, we can become more unified. Maybe we can conduct our public lives with an eye toward what is best for all, rather than for our side of the aisle. As churches are forced out of the routine, maybe we can rediscover that the church is not the four walls, but is the family of God who are called to love and serve our neighbors.

Easter is all about hope. The hope that all will be made right, and we will be resurrected. In the midst of tragedy and hopelessness, we can know that Jesus defeated death. Because he walked out of that tomb, nothing will stand in the way of our Father’s plans to restore his creation. Nothing can change that. As the apostle Paul wrote, “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

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A New Morning

It was quite definitely early morning now, not late night.

“I’m so cold,” said Lucy.

“So am I,” said Susan. “Let’s walk about a bit.”

They walked to the eastern ridge of the hill and looked down. The one big star had almost disappeared. The country all looked dark gray, but beyond, at the very end of the world, the sea showed pale. The sky began to turn red. They walked to and fro more times than they could count between the dead Aslan and the eastern ridge, trying to keep warm, and oh, how tired their legs felt. Then at last, as they stood for a moment looking out toward the sea and Cair Paravel (which they could just now make out) the red turned to gold along the line where the sea and the sky met and very slowly up came the edge of the sun. At that moment they heard from behind them a loud noise–a great cracking, deafening noise as if a giant had cracked a giant’s plate.

“What’s that?” said Lucy, clutching Susan’s arm.

“I–I feel afraid to turn round,” said Susan; “something awful is happening.”

“They’re doing something worse to Him,” said Lucy, “Come on!” And she turned, pulling Susan round with her.

The rising of the sun made everything look so different–all colors and shadows were changed–that for a moment they didn’t see the important thing. Then they did. The Stone Table was broken into two pieces by a great crack that ran down it from end to end, and there was no Aslan.

“Oh, oh, oh!” cried the two girls, rushing back to the Table.

“Oh, it’s too bad,” sobbed Lucy; “they might have left the body alone.”

“Who’s done it?” cried Susan. “What does it mean? Is it more magic?”

“Yes!” said a great voice behind their backs. “It is more magic.” They looked round. There, shining in the sunrise, larger than they had seen him before, shaking his mane (for it had apparently grown again) stood Aslan himself.

“Oh, Aslan!” cried both the children, staring up at him, almost as much frightened as they were glad.

“Aren’t you dead then, dear Aslan?” said Lucy.

“Not now,” said Aslan.

“You’re not–not a–?” asked Susan in a shaky voice. She couldn’t bring herself to say the word ghost. Aslan stooped his golden head and licked her forehead. The warmth of his breath and a rich sort of smell that seemed to hang about his hair came all over her.

“Do I look it?” he said.

“Oh, you’re real, you’re real! Oh Aslan!” cried Lucy, and both girls flung themselves upon him and covered him with kisses.

“But what does it all mean?” asked Susan when they were somewhat calmer.

“It means,” said Aslan, “that though the Witch knew the Deep Magic, there is a magic deeper still which she did not know. Her knowledge goes back only to the dawn of time. But if she could have looked a little further back, into the stillness and the darkness before Time dawned, she would have read there a different incantation. She would have known that when a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor’s stead, the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backward.”

C.S. Lewis: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

Christ is risen!

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A New Morning

It was quite definitely early morning now, not late night.

“I’m so cold,” said Lucy.

“So am I,” said Susan. “Let’s walk about a bit.”

They walked to the eastern ridge of the hill and looked down. The one big star had almost disappeared. The country all looked dark gray, but beyond, at the very end of the world, the sea showed pale. The sky began to turn red. They walked to and fro more times than they could count between the dead Aslan and the eastern ridge, trying to keep warm, and oh, how tired their legs felt. Then at last, as they stood for a moment looking out toward the sea and Cair Paravel (which they could just now make out) the red turned to gold along the line where the sea and the sky met and very slowly up came the edge of the sun. At that moment they heard from behind them a loud noise–a great cracking, deafening noise as if a giant had cracked a giant’s plate.

“What’s that?” said Lucy, clutching Susan’s arm.

“I–I feel afraid to turn round,” said Susan; “something awful is happening.”

“They’re doing something worse to Him,” said Lucy, “Come on!” And she turned, pulling Susan round with her.

The rising of the sun made everything look so different–all colors and shadows were changed–that for a moment they didn’t see the important thing. Then they did. The Stone Table was broken into two pieces by a great crack that ran down it from end to end, and there was no Aslan.

“Oh, oh, oh!” cried the two girls, rushing back to the Table.

“Oh, it’s too bad,” sobbed Lucy; “they might have left the body alone.”

“Who’s done it?” cried Susan. “What does it mean? Is it more magic?”

“Yes!” said a great voice behind their backs. “It is more magic.” They looked round. There, shining in the sunrise, larger than they had seen him before, shaking his mane (for it had apparently grown again) stood Aslan himself.

“Oh, Aslan!” cried both the children, staring up at him, almost as much frightened as they were glad.

“Aren’t you dead then, dear Aslan?” said Lucy.

“Not now,” said Aslan.

“You’re not–not a–?” asked Susan in a shaky voice. She couldn’t bring herself to say the word ghost. Aslan stooped his golden head and licked her forehead. The warmth of his breath and a rich sort of smell that seemed to hang about his hair came all over her.

“Do I look it?” he said.

“Oh, you’re real, you’re real! Oh Aslan!” cried Lucy, and both girls flung themselves upon him and covered him with kisses.

“But what does it all mean?” asked Susan when they were somewhat calmer.

“It means,” said Aslan, “that though the Witch knew the Deep Magic, there is a magic deeper still which she did not know. Her knowledge goes back only to the dawn of time. But if she could have looked a little further back, into the stillness and the darkness before Time dawned, she would have read there a different incantation. She would have known that when a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor’s stead, the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backward.”

C.S. Lewis: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

Christ is risen!

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Easter: Hope and Challenge

Easter is a time of great celebration. It is the pinnacle of the Church year, a day when we remember the resurrection of our Savior. Why do we celebrate? Why do we make such a big deal of this day? I would suggest that we celebrate for two reasons. The Resurrection gives us hope for the future, and it gives us hope and a challenge for today.

We have a hope for the future. Jesus said that he is the resurrection and the life, and that those who believe in him will never die. The apostle Paul tells us that Jesus’ resurrection means that we too shall be raised. When the kingdom of heaven comes in its fulfillment, we will be raised to never die. The resurrection of Jesus is the foundation of our future hope.

We also have a challenge and a hope for our day-to-day. When you look at the gospel accounts of the Resurrection, what you don’t see are mentions of the future hope. The followers of Jesus don’t say, “Jesus has been raised, so we will be raised from the dead and live with him forever.” That is in the rest of the New Testament, but the sense of the first disciples was more about now. Jesus is raised, so he is the Messiah. Jesus is raised, so new creation has begun. Jesus is raised, so we have a job to do. We are called to be heralds of this new kingdom.

Easter changes everything! The restoration has begun! We are subjects of a new kingdom, a kingdom of love, repentance, forgiveness, reconciliation. It is a kingdom in which we lay down our lives for our King and for others. It is a kingdom that puts loving God and loving others ahead of everything else. That is the challenge. There is hope along with the challenge.

The cross calls us to come and die. The empty tomb calls us to find that we can truly live. Because Jesus is raised, his Spirit is now in us, so we can die daily. We can give up our wishes, our desires, our comfort, our need to be right, our self-righteousness. We can show the world the truth, beauty, and goodness of Jesus by the way we love.

While we may live in the in-between time before the restoration is complete, we can live as Easter people because Jesus is raised. Let us begin to live in the power of the Resurrection today.

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Seven Steps to Happiness

Another Easter post from 2010.

Just kidding. Did I get your attention? Actually, this post has nothing to do with any number of steps to anything. It’s about the Resurrection of Jesus Christ and what that means in our day-to-day.

A couple of days ago, I was reading a post by Keith Giles, titled “Risen?” I remember, while growing up in fundamental Baptist churches, hearing a lot about the death of Christ on the cross, but not a whole lot on the Resurrection. Resurrection was something reserved for the times the pastor preached on justification or why Christians worship on Sunday, or for Easter. The death of Christ is the loudest message that the church proclaims. Now, the death of Jesus on the Cross is essential. Because of the Cross, our sins are washed away and we are free. We must proclaim the Cross.

We forget however, that the death of Christ on the cross is only part of the Gospel. The rest of the story is that Jesus didn’t remain dead. He walked out of that tomb, proving that he was indeed the Messiah. He defeated death, and began the restoration of all creation. As the Apostle Paul said, if Christ is not raised then our faith is useless. The Resurrection changes everything!

I wonder if one reason the death of Christ is the church’s main message is the emphasis that is put on going to heaven, of life after death. In the circles I spent time in, everything was based on getting to go to heaven when you died. This life was seen as simply living according to the moral principles of whatever group you were a part of, keeping a “good testimony” so unbelievers would hear what we had to say, and staying “right with God.” We were never taught that the Resurrection had any implications for life in the here and now.

If we believe that Jesus is raised from the dead, there are certain things that are true of us. We are raised with Christ. Death has been defeated. As N.T. Wright puts it, there is “life after life after death.” We will live in a new creation, not just a disembodied state out there somewhere. We have the same power that raised Jesus from the dead at work in us. Let that sink in.

These things are not only in the future. They have begun. The Resurrection gives us the power to live as new creation now, in this life. The Resurrection means that God is restoring all things now, and that we get to be part of that restoration. Resurrection also means that the Kingdom has come. Jesus is Lord. That means that we live as citizens of the Kingdom of God right now, not just sometime in the distant future. Our allegiance is first and foremost to the King of Kings.

I don’t know how all of this works out in the individual lives of followers of Jesus. There really are no steps to follow that will work for everyone. I’ve been thinking about what living in the Resurrection would look like in my life. I do know that I need to be more sensitive to the Holy Spirit’s leading as I live in my day-to-day. I do know that I want to live as one who is risen with Christ, who is a subject of the King of Kings, who is part of the restoring of Creation.

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A New Morning

It was quite definitely early morning now, not late night.
“I’m so cold,” said Lucy.
“So am I,” said Susan. “Let’s walk about a bit.”
They walked to the eastern ridge of the hill and looked down. The one big star had almost disappeared. The country all looked dark gray, but beyond, at the very end of the world, the sea showed pale. The sky began to turn red. They walked to and fro more times than they could count between the dead Aslan and the eastern ridge, trying to keep warm, and oh, how tired their legs felt. Then at last, as they stood for a moment looking out toward the sea and Cair Paravel (which they could just now make out) the red turned to gold along the line where the sea and the sky met and very slowly up came the edge of the sun. At that moment they heard from behind them a loud noise–a great cracking, deafening noise as if a giant had cracked a giant’s plate.
“What’s that?” said Lucy, clutching Susan’s arm.
“I–I feel afraid to turn round,” said Susan; “something awful is happening.”
“They’re doing something worse to Him,” said Lucy, “Come on!” And she turned, pulling Susan round with her.
The rising of the sun made everything look so different–all colors and shadows were changed–that for a moment they didn’t see the important thing. Then they did. The Stone Table was broken into two pieces by a great crack that ran down it from end to end, and there was no Aslan.
“Oh, oh, oh!” cried the two girls, rushing back to the Table.
“Oh, it’s too bad,” sobbed Lucy; “they might have left the body alone.”
“Who’s done it?” cried Susan. “What does it mean? Is it more magic?”
“Yes!” said a great voice behind their backs. “It is more magic.” They looked round. There, shining in the sunrise, larger than they had seen him before, shaking his mane (for it had apparently grown again) stood Aslan himself.
“Oh, Aslan!” cried both the children, staring up at him, almost as much frightened as they were glad.
“Aren’t you dead then, dear Aslan?” said Lucy.
“Not now,” said Aslan.
“You’re not–not a–?” asked Susan in a shaky voice. She couldn’t bring herself to say the word ghost. Aslan stooped his golden head and licked her forehead. The warmth of his breath and a rich sort of smell that seemed to hang about his hair came all over her.
“Do I look it?” he said.
“Oh, you’re real, you’re real! Oh Aslan!” cried Lucy, and both girls flung themselves upon him and covered him with kisses.
“But what does it all mean?” asked Susan when they were somewhat calmer.
“It means,” said Aslan, “that though the Witch knew the Deep Magic, there is a magic deeper still which she did not know. Her knowledge goes back only to the dawn of time. But if she could have looked a little further back, into the stillness and the darkness before Time dawned, she would have read there a different incantation. She would have known that when a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor’s stead, the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backward.”

C.S. Lewis: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

Christ is risen!