Hope fulfilled

I awoke with a great sense of relief. Easter is FINALLY here. It may seem a ridiculous thing to say, as Easter is a celebration of something that happened long ago. But in many ways, Easter is new for me every year. The Lenten season drains me. Self reflection is hard, painful work. Between recognizing myself for who I really am and experiencing the mental and emotional journeying with Christ toward the cross, I usually find myself stumbling around toward Easter.

And somehow, the Holy surprise finds me. Like the women who approached the tomb over 2,000 years ago, I never find what I expect. I come carrying my burial clothes and arrive to discover a flower blooming in a tiny mountain crevice. Life has overtaken death; grace has overtaken my guilt.

As I drove home from services today, I found myself struck that this holy day isn't as much about new life as it is changed life. In other words, Christ didn't die to create something new or start over, but because of great love for the people all around. Christ looked at what was and saw all that could be. He died not to make me a new creation, but to remind me (us) of the creation I (we) already am (are) - of the identity God already gave me (us).

In reading John's depiction of the graveside encounter, it is easy to laugh at the way he writes about himself. He outruns Peter on the way to the tomb -- and let's not forget his favorite way to refer to himself, as "the one Jesus loved." As this Lenten season progressed, I can't help but wonder if his reference was a reminder to himself -- that he was, in fact, loved. When all seems dark, it is easy to think that a perfect Christ is repulsed and turned away by all of our failings. In the midst of self evaluation, it is easy to adopt Paul's idea that I am the "chief sinner." Perhaps one of Easter's greatest messages is that while I am chief among sinners, that I am also the one that Christ loves... and that he doesn't love the perfect vision of me, but the me I am now. Christ loves me -- loves all of us -- in the middle of our failings.

And honestly, that is hard for me to grasp. Like the women at the tomb, I'm completely flustered by the news of Easter and don't quite know what to do with it. Mark suggests they ran away afraid and, in their astonishment, kept silent. Other gospels suggest the disciples didn't believe until they saw for themselves -- and even then they saw and walked with Christ without recognizing his presence among them.

While exciting, hope fulfilled is also scary. I think it is easy to feel as if the job is completely done -- and there is a sense in which that is true. I believe that Christ's life, death and resurrection ushered in the kingdom of God. Might our new responsibility be to actually live there? What does it look like to live the good news? How might we live out the love that Jesus poured out upon us?