A Different Kind of Easter

Mark 16:1-8

               This is a different kind of Easter, isn’t it?  Last week, Palm Sunday, felt different, and yet it was also familiar: a recognition that we had been in a time of anticipation, waiting, hoping, that then was met great change.  In the case of Palm Sunday, the people turned from hope to anger and persecution of Jesus.  For us, we turned from anticipation of good things into a time with virus, with isolation, with quarantine.  Good Friday felt perhaps even more familiar: the shock of things turned upside down, the shock of grief, of death, of despair: not knowing what the future would hold, not knowing if there was any hope at all.

               And then we come to today.  And while we usually think of Easter as a rousing celebration (and while we are doing our best to make it so, even though we are apart and watching this from our homes), the reality is that the original Easter was not like this.  What do we see here in today’s story?

               People are spread apart, they have run from one another and run from the situation.  Just a few women are left, and they go to the tomb not expecting a resurrection.  They have a particular image in mind which included caring for the dead body of Jesus, out of love, out of care.  But instead, they find an empty tomb.  And their reaction is not one of joyous celebration.  It is fear.  So, they run again, and, we are told, they spoke to no one about what they had seen and heard because they were afraid.  This was not the celebration that we usually practice at Easter.  It wasn’t loud, it wasn’t raucous.  It wasn’t people gathering with their families to eat and celebrate.  It wasn’t hunting for eggs or chocolate rabbits.  There was no triumphant and perfectly placed rendition of Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus.

Instead, “Overcome with terror and dread, they fled from the tomb. They said nothing to anyone, because they were afraid.”  Hm.  It has more in common with today than we’d like to admit, doesn’t it?  Like us, they didn’t know what to make of what they had been told.  They didn’t know how to understand what had happened in that tomb.  They did not have a vision into the future, into that day or the next day or what would happen after that.  While we, from our place now, can look back on that first Easter and while we place our hopes and our faith on that day, on that resurrection event which shows us a God who is not defeated by death, who loves us beyond death, who gives us everything in order that we might live and thrive and celebrate; that is not how they felt then.  The women must have been truly terrified.  Has Jesus really been raised from the dead?  And if so, what would that mean?  Roman Tyranny still existed, their lives were still hard.  What would Jesus do if he was back?  Had Jesus returned in order to judge them?  Would he wreak destruction on those who killed him?  Was the natural order of things now different?  Was this some terrible hoax or plot to wreak havoc on the community?  We can only imagine what they went through, but we know it was NOT the celebration that we have been practicing for the last 2000 years.  The entire gospel of Mark, in the original ends with the word “afraid”.  It is not a word of hope.  They could not afford hope. 

For many in our communities, this is also true.  For those who have lost work, for those who have no option of finding new work because they are required to stay in their homes, for those who have lost bread winners to this disease, for the poorest of our poor, “hope” is not a reality because it cannot be dared.  Our homeless people have nowhere to go: there is no sheltering in place for them because there is no place for them to shelter.  Our migrant workers across the world are without transportation now, many walking thousands of miles back to their homes.  There are undocumented people in every country who have no resources and no way to provide for their families during this time.  They are not looking for Easter but just food to eat and shelter for their kids. The truth is that hope is an experience of the privileged.  It is not a reality for those who suffer the most.  As a wise friend told me this week, while it is true that we are all on the same boat, we do not all stand in the same place.  Like with the Titanic, some of us are climbing into lifeboats, while others of us are drowning in the hold. 

And yet, even with all the similarities, there are still big differences.  I believe we are still, in so many ways in Good Friday.  Because we still don’t know what is coming, and we don’t yet, as those in the midst of crisis have a real reason to celebrate.  Unlike those who loved Jesus who believed the worst of it was Jesus’ death, we’ve been told that the worst in our crisis is yet to come, and we do not know what that will look like for our community, for our families, or for us as individuals.  Will we get sick?  Will our families get sick?  Will they survive it?  And beyond all of that, will there be work?  Will our communities recover economically?  What will they look like when all the dust has cleared?  How will we be and interact with one another once this is over? 

               In many ways we are still in Good Friday.  And, if you are like me, you don’t like it. 

I have found myself reflecting on that oh so wise part of Lord of the Rings where Frodo says to Gandalf “I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.”

To which Gandalf replied, “So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”

               This is the time we are given.  But we are Easter people.  We are resurrection people.  And so what that means is that the first thing we are called to do is to look for Easter, to look for the good, to look for GOD and God’s coming anew and God’s resurrection, even when we are suffering, even when we cannot feel the light and the hope in our own lives.   So, I want to start by showing you what I am seeing in terms of signs of Easter, signs of spring, signs of God’s resurrection and God’s ability to bring good out of evil, life out of death.  I think that has to start with the healing that I am seeing in the earth.  Did you know that in Shanghai and the most polluted areas of India, people are saying they can see the sky for the first time in many, many years?  We are not driving as much, we are not out creating the disastrous pollution as much, and the earth is responding to that space, it is responding with healing, with spring, with Easter.  We can breathe again.  We can hear the birds again.  We are seeing dolphins in the canals of Italy and goats on the streets of England, and mountain lions on our own paths in Clayton. 

               In addition to the Easter of our earth, we are also in the Easter of Unity.  We are sharing this experience of the virus, of global pandemic, of loss and grief with all those around the world.  And while at some level that is hard, at another level, it means that our world is now smaller, our world is much more connected.  We are being reminded in a concrete way of our deep connection to all life, and to people around the globe. Our worship services now are seen and experienced by people who do not live near us.  We are connecting to those who live far away as much as to those who are nearby.  It has made our world smaller, in a good way, as we remember our connections even to those in very different places.

               People who never prayed before are praying now: something is resurrected in people’s lives as people think through things in a different way.  People are more focused on healing, on caring for another, on connecting.  We are all waiting for the flood to recede.  40 days?  40 years?  We don’t know, but many understand at a much deeper level that we are experiencing this together, across our differences, and across our spatial boundaries.  I see people being kinder to one another on my walks.  I see people reaching out to care for one another, virtually and in other ways.  Neighbors are meeting neighbors for the first time in a long time.  I’ve heard many stories of communities coming together to offer virtual graduations, and in some cases (like at my daughter’s college), the community came together before all the young adults left for spring break, anticipating that they would not be returning, to celebrate those graduating this year.  They did not have to do that, the school itself did not offer this, but rather the community made their early leaving of school into a brief but meaningful celebration of those graduating, their families and their friends.

               I also see Easter in the way people are responding to what our experts, our scientists are telling us that we need to do.  People are sheltering in place, people are learning, growing and taking care of one another and themselves through this time.  Not everyone, but most people are.

               I saw a story this week posted by a friend on FB who gave me permission to share this.  She wrote,

“Most of you know what we endured to become pregnant with our second child.  Too many rounds of IUI to even remember.  Then, on to IVF, first round resulted in an ectopic pregnancy, and had to be terminated, what an emotional blow.  Round two, nothing.  Round 3, success!!!

I wouldn't wish IVF on my worst enemy.  Over the course of one year, there were hundreds of injections, blood tests, appointments, and an emotional roller-coaster.

My due date was January 14, with a C-section scheduled for January 4, 2005.

Plans changed.  On December 7, 2004, my blood pressure tanked and I passed out, luckily I was at the hospital for a non-stress test.  I started pre-term labor.  The medication used to stop labor made me pass out again.  Doctor told me I had to stay.  I thought she meant for the night.  Nope, for the duration! I had to stay in my hospital bed for 24 straight days, laying on my left side.  I was allowed a 3 minute shower each day, and quick trips to the bathroom.  I did not leave that room for 24 days.  My mom and husband brought my then 4 year old to see me, the highlights of my days.  I cried a lot.  I was missing Christmas with my family.  I missed the outside world, fresh air, friends, parties.  I kept telling myself that someday it would all be a distant memory, I would get through it.  And I did.

On December 31 (doctor took pity on me and let me get a tax break!), our beautiful little girl was born!  15 years later, I look back and smile.  It was all worth it.  I would have spent my entire pregnancy at the hospital if that is what it took.  Yes, it sucked while I was there, but I did it, and I would do it all again in a heartbeat.

When this shelter in place is over, and we define our new normal, we will be okay.  Looking at our fellow humans, and witnessing them living and breathing should be all the evidence we need to know it was worth it. It is what we do, what we are willing to sacrifice in order to attain the outcome we need.

Hang in there everyone, we will get there!”

We are doing what we need to do to care for ourselves, each other, and our communities.  And in that is a great sign of the resurrection of care, of love, and of kindness.

               The second thing we are called to do during this time is to remember the words of the angels, “Be Not Afraid.”  No, we don’t know what is coming.  We don’t know what tomorrow will look like for all of us or for the world.  But the words “Be Not Afraid” are in our scriptures 365 times: that’s one “be not afraid” for every day of the year.  And we are called to hold on to that.  No matter what we are going through, God is there with us in it.  No matter in life or in death, God is with us.  Resurrection is the embodiment of letting go of the fear and living in what is.  The words “Be not Afraid” are not a judgment on our fear.  They are an invitation to trust that we are not alone.

               Finally, we are also called to be that light, to be that resurrection .  That is what we are called to do with the time that we are given, to keep remembering and acting on the deep belief that we are all connected.  To take care of each other, especially the “least of these” who will have the hardest time recovering from this crisis is the work of being people of faith.  We have hope.  But we have to be careful that “hope” is not a way to controlling people into complacency, but instead is a call to make life better for EVERYONE.  The sign over the gates of the concentration camps saying, “work will set you free” did not prevent those working hard from being killed in the gas chambers.  We need to be people who bring genuine hope for change, for life, for even the poorest of the poor, who are also God’s children.  This can remind us that it is only in working together, across all differences that we will overcome. 

I’ve been reading story after story this week of people helping other people during this time.  Non-profits are raising extensive funds to help people with food, toiletries, sanitizers, housing and utilities.  Stores are setting up special hours for our most vulnerable to shop.  Communities have set moratoriums on evictions during this time and some organizations are waving fees for medical insurance payments.  People have been planning to send their government subsidies to help those who are hungry or struggling.  People are reaching out to neighbors to run errands and to do the shopping.  I read a story about fitness instructor who went on the roof of her building to offer fitness classes for those in the apartment complex across the street who can watch from their windows and participate in their own homes.  I’ve heard beautiful stories of people singing out their windows with the neighbors all singing from their own homes.  Our own Hope Solutions has continued to house people and put 13 new families in homes this last month.  And one of my friends told the story of sitting on his porch outside when he heard a neighbor yelling at her kids with the window open.  He sang at the top of his lung, “We are called to love one another! We are called to be kind to our children and our parents.  We are called to be patient and caring.”  And the yelling stopped.  In the midst of crisis, the signs of Easter, of new life, of resurrected kindness and connection abound.  We are called to be part of those stories, especially for those who are suffering the most.  We are called to allow the earth to remind us through this virus that when even one of us is sick, we are all at risk, and when even one of us is poor, we are all poorer, and when even one of us is hurting, we are all hurting. 

               The earth is in Easter, but we are not there yet on the whole.  But because of the original resurrection, we can trust in the promise that Easter will come for us, as it has come for the earth.  Resurrection and new life will come, even if it does not come today.  We know that grass will grow; that spring is just around the corner. 

This is our call.  Look for Easter today.  Wait for the Easter that will come tomorrow.  And help create Easter for our brothers and sisters around us both today, tomorrow and everyday.  God is there to help bring that Resurrection about.  That is the promise of this day.  Amen.