It’s been a few days now since we celebrated Easter. You remember that day, don’t you? The festive, joyful, palpable-with-excitement day of celebration? But how are you today? Still excited? Still caught up in the celebration? Probably not and we are halfway through the work week. It is back to the regular routine - the office, the classroom, the daily chores. And Easter can seem a long way off.
Let’s admit it, it isn’t possible to always live on the Easter high. But we can live in the Easter message and as Easter people. To live as an Easter person means being reminded that there is a power greater than death: the power of God, who is LOVE. Love gives life, and God, in Christ, draws us to share his Son’s resurrection. The cross, an instrument of human cruelty, humiliation and death, has become now an instrument of life.
The experience of Easter also reminds us that there are many around us and beyond us who feel trapped in their lives, with no way out. And those of us who have experienced the new life that is given in Christ and previewed in his resurrection, are called to join the resurrected Jesus who is set free in our world in reaching out to those who are still trapped in their tombs – tombs of despair, alienation, boredom, selfishness, tiredness, self-doubt, confusion, fear. We reach out not because we have it all together or that we don’t sometimes forget the good news of Easter and the power of God’s love and life – but because of God’s grace. Because of God’s grace we have the ability to start over again and again and again,…. And with each new beginning and each new reminder and realization of the really Good News of Easter and our identity as a Resurrection People, especially as we celebrate it in our gathered communities, we find ourselves living more and more in the power of the resurrected Christ and in the joy and hope of the New Life that we have in Christ and we want to share it.
This year I attended our local church’s Easter Vigil. It began at 9 in the evening in the almost complete darkness and ended around midnight in the light of the resurrection. It moved from a recounting of the story of human Fall and sin through reminders of God’s unrelenting pursuit of his rebellious creation, to the vivid picture of the passion and the brokenness of God’s heart in the death of Christ. But it didn’t, couldn’t stop there. Then came the glorious news of the resurrection --that Jesus wasn’t dead, but alive. The Good News that the God Jesus had told us about, introduced us to, had based his life on, had kept faith with Jesus and raised him to new life. And that that power of enduring love and grace is extended to each of us in and through Christ.
I don’t know where I found it, but I have this quote in one of my journals – “A different word, a new word, has come from another place, interrupting the monochrome monotony with vibrant vision.” That is Easter – “interrupting the monochrome monotony with vibrant vision.” Or at least it can be.
The great fourth century theologian Augustine once said that “a Christian should be an alleluia from head to toe.” This alleluia life is no pretense, no manufactured attitude. It rises from reality, the deepest and most profound truths about how things really are, namely that Easter shows that God is with us and that life is stronger than death. That is something that should change our lives.
I came across a prayer recently from the Rev. Terry Tastard. It is one that I have found myself coming back to over and over again these past few days. I have given it a name – “A Living-the-Resurrection Prayer.” I hope you find it helpful to reflect on when you feel yourself sliding back into one of the various “tombs” that Christ came to liberate us from and we can be free off because of his resurrection. Blessings.
“A Living-the-Resurrection Prayer”
( adapted from a prayer by Terry Tastard )
Lord, do not let the tomb enclose me.
The tomb of self-doubt and anguish.
The tomb of cynicism or indifference.
The tomb of selfishness.
The tomb of hurt and despair.
Always, dear Christ,
reach down and draw me out.
Set me on my feet again and send me out on my way,
comforted by the knowledge that you are the hidden presence beside me,
knowing that I am not alone, but part of a great company of people to whom you give life.
Amen.
