Easter: Hope is not unfashionable
Easter: Hope is not unfashionable
Alleluia! The Lord has risen! The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
Easter is the celebration of Christ’s rising from his grave to be alive again. He died, he was buried in a tomb, and then he was alive again. He conquered death by dying and perpetuated life by becoming alive after. No, it doesn’t make sense. It isn’t supposed to.
God can’t be quantified; God can’t be measured, or described, or put in a box for us to contain or limit. God is, and what God or Christ does is not meant to be understood the way that we understand the world. Christ’s resurrection is one of perhaps three core beliefs all Christians share, the other two being that Jesus was God’s Son, and that Jesus was born from an immaculate conception. These are the stakes that we put into the ground and say “This is where we begin.” Christmas and Easter are our open proclamation that we believe through faith, that we believe without proof, because proof is irrelevant when it comes to our soul proclaiming its truth. Faith by its very nature is to be experienced rather than be limited by description. No, it doesn’t make sense. It isn’t supposed to.
Everything has moved so fast. Just a week ago, Jesus entered into Jerusalem, and began to preach and teach something new and revolutionary: that our actions should be motivated out of unconditional love, rather than the cold, hard rationality of rules, laws, and unbending expectations. Then, in the space of two days, Jesus was arrested, tried, convicted, and executed for… what, exactly? Put yourself in the Apostle Peter’s shoes for a moment: you thought that Jesus could make it work; you just knew that he could bring peace to a nation; you believed that he could remove the stain and burden of sin laid on by those following God’s laws. And suddenly he’s gone. You denied that you were one of his followers. You saw him die. No, it didn’t make sense. It wasn’t supposed to.
On the third day of Jesus’ death, when the despair and powerlessness experienced on Good Friday has led to a crushing grief, Mary and other women come to you and tell you that his body isn’t in the tomb. They say that there were two angels at his tomb who said he was alive, and then one of them saw him as he called her by name. Maybe it’s a cruel joke, maybe these women are so overcome with their grief that they imagined it all. But God can’t be contained in a box, and faith can’t be measured. The news of Jesus’ resurrection is heard by the broken heart and by the shattered soul, not by the keen and discerning mind. No, it doesn’t make sense. It isn’t supposed to.
The Resurrection is a message of hope in the face of disappointment and despair from lost dreams and the tragedy of a future lost forever. It is not a naive search for restoration of that lost future, but of finding a way forward again. Jesus appeared to the apostles before he ascended to be with God. He didn’t come back to continue preaching and teaching as he had in Jerusalem. His followers did that instead, openly, in defiance of the people who had killed Jesus for his words. They saw the holiness of his way of life, his attitudes, and his relationship with them. They believed in him and found faith in themselves to continue his work. They became the hands and feet, the eyes and ears, the Body of Christ in the world. The Body of Christ lives on, with us being the hands and feet, eye and ears of Christ in this world, today. No, it doesn’t make sense. It isn’t supposed to.
The hope of the Resurrection is to get up, to stand up, to rise and believe that there is something good and worthwhile to do even as grief, disappointment, and fear tears at our soul. The hope of the Resurrection is to have faith that God is still present, that God knows the pain we feel, that God cares even as we are buried by the emotions of losing our life. The hope of the Resurrection is to want to find life again, wherever it is, and live it to the fullest. The hope of the Resurrection is to search for goodness in a broken world, never giving up on the desire to find it wherever it appears. No, it doesn’t make sense. It isn’t supposed to. Hope is no less important because we can’t measure it, contain it, or describe it. Hope is all we have when everything else is gone, lost, destroyed, or taken away. Hope is the way to find light in a dark world, love in a fearful world, holiness in a profane world.
So having been cut down and swept aside we stand up again by saying,
Alleluia! The Lord has risen! The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
So we find faith in the goodness of God and belief that there is goodness in the world as we say,
Alleluia! The Lord has risen! The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
So it is with our heart and soul that we express hope by saying,
Alleluia! The Lord has risen! The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
Alleluia! The Lord has risen! The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
Easter is the celebration of Christ’s rising from his grave to be alive again. He died, he was buried in a tomb, and then he was alive again. He conquered death by dying and perpetuated life by becoming alive after. No, it doesn’t make sense. It isn’t supposed to.
God can’t be quantified; God can’t be measured, or described, or put in a box for us to contain or limit. God is, and what God or Christ does is not meant to be understood the way that we understand the world. Christ’s resurrection is one of perhaps three core beliefs all Christians share, the other two being that Jesus was God’s Son, and that Jesus was born from an immaculate conception. These are the stakes that we put into the ground and say “This is where we begin.” Christmas and Easter are our open proclamation that we believe through faith, that we believe without proof, because proof is irrelevant when it comes to our soul proclaiming its truth. Faith by its very nature is to be experienced rather than be limited by description. No, it doesn’t make sense. It isn’t supposed to.
Everything has moved so fast. Just a week ago, Jesus entered into Jerusalem, and began to preach and teach something new and revolutionary: that our actions should be motivated out of unconditional love, rather than the cold, hard rationality of rules, laws, and unbending expectations. Then, in the space of two days, Jesus was arrested, tried, convicted, and executed for… what, exactly? Put yourself in the Apostle Peter’s shoes for a moment: you thought that Jesus could make it work; you just knew that he could bring peace to a nation; you believed that he could remove the stain and burden of sin laid on by those following God’s laws. And suddenly he’s gone. You denied that you were one of his followers. You saw him die. No, it didn’t make sense. It wasn’t supposed to.
On the third day of Jesus’ death, when the despair and powerlessness experienced on Good Friday has led to a crushing grief, Mary and other women come to you and tell you that his body isn’t in the tomb. They say that there were two angels at his tomb who said he was alive, and then one of them saw him as he called her by name. Maybe it’s a cruel joke, maybe these women are so overcome with their grief that they imagined it all. But God can’t be contained in a box, and faith can’t be measured. The news of Jesus’ resurrection is heard by the broken heart and by the shattered soul, not by the keen and discerning mind. No, it doesn’t make sense. It isn’t supposed to.
The Resurrection is a message of hope in the face of disappointment and despair from lost dreams and the tragedy of a future lost forever. It is not a naive search for restoration of that lost future, but of finding a way forward again. Jesus appeared to the apostles before he ascended to be with God. He didn’t come back to continue preaching and teaching as he had in Jerusalem. His followers did that instead, openly, in defiance of the people who had killed Jesus for his words. They saw the holiness of his way of life, his attitudes, and his relationship with them. They believed in him and found faith in themselves to continue his work. They became the hands and feet, the eyes and ears, the Body of Christ in the world. The Body of Christ lives on, with us being the hands and feet, eye and ears of Christ in this world, today. No, it doesn’t make sense. It isn’t supposed to.
The hope of the Resurrection is to get up, to stand up, to rise and believe that there is something good and worthwhile to do even as grief, disappointment, and fear tears at our soul. The hope of the Resurrection is to have faith that God is still present, that God knows the pain we feel, that God cares even as we are buried by the emotions of losing our life. The hope of the Resurrection is to want to find life again, wherever it is, and live it to the fullest. The hope of the Resurrection is to search for goodness in a broken world, never giving up on the desire to find it wherever it appears. No, it doesn’t make sense. It isn’t supposed to. Hope is no less important because we can’t measure it, contain it, or describe it. Hope is all we have when everything else is gone, lost, destroyed, or taken away. Hope is the way to find light in a dark world, love in a fearful world, holiness in a profane world.
So having been cut down and swept aside we stand up again by saying,
Alleluia! The Lord has risen! The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
So we find faith in the goodness of God and belief that there is goodness in the world as we say,
Alleluia! The Lord has risen! The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
So it is with our heart and soul that we express hope by saying,
Alleluia! The Lord has risen! The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
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