Easter

Mark 16:1-8

The events of this morning obliterate the world as we know it—all assumptions shatter; all expectations fall away; all predictability fails—everything we know of our world and the way it works crashes to a stunning end. 

Yet no one is hurt, no one left for dead on the side of the road—quite the opposite, in fact, no one is left in utter disbelief as to how this could possibly happen to them—the disbelief is there, but for quite another reason—one more akin to peeking through the curtains to the see the Publishers Clearinghouse van in the driveway. This shattering is that of an eggshell as a new bird stretches her wings into life.

We cannot tame the events of this morning, no matter how many bunnies we strew about with baskets in their paws, no matter how many chocolates we consume, no matter how hard we try to make this day into a rite of spring. It will not conform to our efforts, but remains as it is—something quite terrifying, truth be told, wondrous as it is.

That is why I appreciate Mark’s account of Easter morning and why I like to start my own observance of the day with his story—he keeps it unreal, a jolt, and, yes, scary. All anyone can do is run away as the morning opens. 

Why do I like that?

Because it serves as an ineffable reminder that God is God, and we are not.

The deeper we enter into the praxis of faith, the more inescapable that realization needs to be. The more we accept this basic dichotomy between believer and God the better we are set for the journey that follows. 

What I mean by that is this—Easter shatters all of our tendencies to make God manageable—our God in all the bad connotations of possession we can imagine. Easter is something only God could do—only God has such power over life and death, transcendent beyond the scope of either. Only God has such power over all forms of death—literal and figurative—existential and material. The world, lost in death, sought to eradicate the living embodiment of God among them (Christ), treating him to the full extent of their power—our power—as one deserving of our complete contempt—he failed to meet our expectations, ergo, he died. God says No—no, you have no power over me, over mine, over my will, or over my ends—He is not here; he is risen. 

That realization then feeds what comes next for us—see to what good use these gifts can be put…

We gather here in a garden of the dead—those loved and cherished by others among us are planted all around us, given back to the earth from which they came. The events of this morning ensure we can be here without fear, despair, or dread—even if what came was frightening. We can be here because God erases the finality of this place—this is a gate to something other, something beyond all reason, and something defying imagination. But it is a joyous other because it is a manifestation of the mighty power of God. God is love; ergo, all that God does is a manifestation of that love. This shattering of the world as we know it is a flat declaration of the love of God for all creation. God will not leave us as we are. God will not leave the world as it is. God wills an end to all the powers and principalities that would own us, control us, break us, mold us, or shape us into implements of their will—Paul imagines quite a catalog in Romans 8—peruse it at your leisure—no, we belong solely to God as God’s beloved children—all other powers are served notice—God is here—all else fades to nothing.

With that sort of backing behind us and among us, we can live this day—each day—free from fear of emptiness, hollowness, or vacancy of meaning. We can meet the challenges of this day and each day with confidence that all shall be well and all manner of things be well—even if those things should be overwhelming, hurtful, or insulting—anything from illness to frailty to anger to disappointment to poverty to bigotry to violence—anything—all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well.

Why?

Because God is God, and we are not.

The tomb was empty—a dead man walked—the Lord lives.

Glory to God in the highest!