Easter Day

It’s quite the day, isn’t it?  Finally, Easter is here; the highest holy day of the Christian tradition has arrived.

Kinda, though, it doesn’t feel any different.  Easter isn’t like Christmas; it doesn’t have the cultural approval.  Christmas is easy to get behind: peace, goodwill, joy…You can buy ‘Happy Holidays’ cards and not offend anyone. 

But Easter….Easter is more difficult.  After all, this is the celebration of the central event of Christianity: yes, Jesus was born; but it was his resurrection from the dead that started this whole enterprise.  If Jesus had lived out to a ripe old age and died surrounded by grandchildren, he would have become just another moral example.

Then again, we like moral examples.  We like to have people to look up, but who are a safe enough distance away that they can’t judge us or our lives.  That’s part of the reason why there’s so much collective anger among people when we read news stories of pastors or teachers who have fallen short of an ideal that is set for them: we don’t want to be them; but we know what we want them to do: whatever we don’t have to.

But Easter…Do you know why it’s called Easter?  In a nutshell: in the early medieval times, after the city of Rome had been invaded, the focus of Christianity’s teaching and culture shifted from Rome to west-central Europe.  Since this was a time when every culture used a different calendar, the month equivalent to April in that part of the world at the time was, in old-English, “oestre-month”; a name that traced its own origins back to a long-dead pagan celebration.  But, since the focus of Christianity settled on this particular geography for a few hundred years, in English people came to say that the feast of the resurrection was celebrated “in Easter”.  A few hundred years of grammatical changes later, and “Easter Day” was born. 

And, just so you know: Easter eggs stem from Christian tradition.  I honestly don’t have a clue where the Easter bunny comes from.  I’ve heard some cleverly manufactured reasons for him; but none that make any sense.

Now, making sense is probably the difficulty with Easter.  Do you ever chat with neighbours and friends about your holiday plans?  Again, at Christmas it’s easy: you say you’re going to Christmas Eve service, and they can be all “ah, celebrating the birth of Jesus”.  Try talking to them about Easter: “what are you doing for the long weekend?” “Oh, you know, going to church.”  “Why do you go to church on Easter?” “to celebrate that Jesus rose from the dead.”

That’s what they call a ‘show-stopper,’ folks.  You’ve either just opened yourself up for a discussion that you’d really rather not have, or your neighbour is going to start hoarding canned food and shotguns, preparing for the zombie apocalypse.

“It makes Mom and Dad happy,” seems a much, much easier response.

But yes, on Easter, Christians do celebrate that Jesus rose from the dead.  It’s an integral part of our story; no matter how hard we might try to ignore it.  The problem with Easter is that you can’t Sunday school your way out of it, like you can with Christmas.  In Sunday school you learn the basics: resurrection, new life, hope…all the good things.  But it takes a lifetime to understand what Easter means.

Inspirational speaker Marianne Williamson wrote, think of everything you've ever experienced that was painful; that's the meaning of Good Friday. Think of all the ways that love ultimately healed your heart; that's the meaning of Easter. 

Easter is something you can only understand when you’ve been through Good Friday; when you’ve had your heart broken in ways too terrible to contemplate, and still found that God is there, has wept with you, and given you love as healing.

If you were to condense the whole concept of Christianity into one week, it would look like this: Jesus was born on Monday, ministered on Thursday, suffered and died on Friday, and rose on Sunday.

If you were to condense the whole of our modern lives into one week, beloved, it would look similar:  born on Monday, worked on Thursday, suffered Friday, woke up Saturday.

You see, we don’t make it to Sunday.  But we know Friday.  Lord, we know Good Friday; it is a metaphor for our lives:

Friday is our broken lives.

Friday is our broken relationships.

Friday is the bottle of alcohol in which we look for relief.

Friday is the shame of losing our job, of not providing for our families.

Friday is the pain of losing our spouse, after too short a time.

Friday is our divorce.

Friday is the babies we will only hold in heaven.

Friday is the day for our tears and for our fears.

We are stuck on Friday; stuck at death; stuck and sorrow.

But there’s good news, beloved: Sunday’s coming.

The dawn of Sunday is the return of hope.

Sunday’s dawn is the return of joy.

Sunday’s dawn is the promise of God that not even death is final.

Sunday’s dawn is the promise of God that those who have died will be raised to eternal life.

Sunday’s promise is that God is with us on Friday and will see us to the end.

God doesn’t get stuck on Friday.  On Good Friday, God damned death and on Sunday he cast it out utterly.

And there’s even better news, beloved: Sunday’s here.

Today, the stone is rolled away from the tomb.

Today, hope has wings.

Today in all unexpected grace, Jesus comes through and stands beside us.

Today, Christ is risen – and we are risen with him. 

Thanks be to God – and let God’s people say amen.