When the Ordinary becomes Sacred - Christ is Risen!
There has been so much wringing of hands, especially among those of us who plan and create worship experiences. Will Easter actually happen this year? Without the lilies and the tulips and the trumpet flair, will Easter really happen?
I found myself this week casting about. Feeling disconnected from all of the traditions that we would typically observe in Holy Week. Mourning over missing fanfare and boxes of palms on Palm Sunday, mourning over her the inability to gather together, to wash one another’s feet, to bless one another's hands, to receive the body of Christ broken for us on Maundy Thursday. Not hearing the bell toll on Good Friday. Mourning over not yet learning how it is that we drape the cross at Faith. Not leaving a darkened sanctuary to wait for what would come next.
Thanks be to God for the ways that the Holy Spirit shook me out of my stupor. As I watched thunderstorms mix with wind and with brilliant sunshine, God elbowed me sharply. It all counts. The bad things happen. And still God has the last word.
Easter still happens. Again and again. Every single Sunday – every day if we let it – we marvel at Christ who is risen.
In this season of pandemic and physical distance, I want to linger over a part of scripture we’ve not yet heard. It is from the Gospel of Luke, and it is the only place this detail is recorded. Luke’s account of the crucifixion ends this way:
Now there was a good and righteous man named Joseph, who, though a member of the council, had not agreed to their plan and action. He came from the Jewish town of Arimathea, and he was waiting expectantly for the kingdom of God. This man went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Then he took it down, wrapped it in a linen cloth, and laid it in a rock-hewn tomb where no one had ever been laid. It was the day of Preparation, and the sabbath was beginning. The women who had come with him from Galilee followed, and they saw the tomb and how his body was laid. Then they returned, and prepared spices and ointments.
On the sabbath they rested according to the commandment.
Can you imagine the horror of those who gathered to watch Jesus die on a cross?
And here Joseph of Arimathea collects Jesus’ body so that it can be properly buried. But after what must have been a hard experience of watching events unfold, the women ran out of time as they prepared all the spices and ointments needed to dress the body.
And the sun set. And the Sabbath began. And it was their duty to stay home.
To do no work.
To observe God’s rest.
How hard that must have been, their hearts aching to tend to the one they followed and loved.
But the sun set.
And the Sabbath began.
And it was their duty to stay home.
To do no work.
To observe God’s rest.
And when the Sabbath ended, they set about their work, anxious to tend again to Jesus’ body.
Can you imagine the utter surprise which gave way to joy to discover an empty tomb?
While they rested as commanded, God reversed death.
Jesus was alive.
Death where is your sting?
Death does not have the last word because the tomb is empty!
Christ is risen. Christ is risen indeed!
Now, many of you have heard me preach and teach enough to know that I don’t buy the theology that claims “everything happens for a reason.” Because that is not true. God isn’t a chess master moving pieces on the board, strategizing to an ultimate end.
BUT…
God is in the midst of it all.
Here we are, on a mandatory Sabbath of sorts. Even for those of us working from home and feeding and entertaining family while acting as chief medical officer, chief financial officer, and chief cook, teacher and counselor beyond our day job, we have been asked to STOP living our normal lives.
A mandatory Sabbath of sorts.
While the Sabbath ticked away, something happened in that tomb. The one who died was alive. The one who had willingly gave himself up was redeemed. All while the Sabbath ticked by. Because God was at work. In the darkness of Good Friday, in the yawning silence of Holy Saturday…God was at work.
So that Christ was alive!
I wonder what will come of our season of work and production as we know it being suspended?
All the trappings of our Easter gathering have been suspended. The lilies, the trumpets, the new clothes and the family gatherings. But while we have been hunkered down in our ordinary lives, the Triune God – the Creator, the Redeemer, and the Breath of Life – are at work in our midst, calling forth life in dead places.
The tomb is empty.
We’ve checked in on neighbors we’ve not called in years – if ever.
Maybe we’ve read a book that has been beckoning us for a long time.
Maybe in the silence of prayer or just the silence we’ve encountered God in ways we have not before.
The tomb is empty.
What sacred transformation is taking place in our ordinary days?
This week as I pondered how to make Easter powerful though different, it occurred to me that it is the difference we are encountering that can make Easter powerful this year.
And so, here is your challenge for today. I want you to spend time loving those you can reach. I want you to offer your ordinary gifts as if they are sacred – your time, your attention, your love.
I want you to open your eyes and see where there is beauty. See the ordinary places where death does not have the last word.
Where is resurrection happening around you EVEN as you are forced to wait?
Beloved, help us share this Easter joy…take pictures of your Easter. Maybe your favorite blooming tree. Maybe your Easter – at – home outfit. Maybe the meal that will nourish your heart and body and soul today. Maybe those you are gathered with by choice or otherwise. And share it with me. We’ll sew these together as a virtual Easter parade.
Because there is more Easter to come. Each Sunday, we celebrate an empty tomb, a God who does sacred work amidst ordinary things.
So don’t linger here…go and dwell in the ordinary. Knowing God is in the mix of it all.
God is yet at work.
God is near.
The ordinary is extraordinary.
Christ is Risen.
He is Risen Indeed.
Hallelujah!
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