A Hesitant Easter

In the wake of Easter Sunday, this week has been imbued with constant reminders of our baptism, grandiose banners hanging from the ceiling, and passionate shouts from everywhere, proclaiming that “Christ is risen!” Christ is risen, indeed. Alleluia.

My friend Elisabeth mentioned today that sometimes she finds it hard to say, “Alleluia.” Even as Easter comes and we celebrate Christ’s resurrection and victory over death, there are some who cannot so easily utter “Alleluia!” We are compelled to do so after the 40 days of Lent, but there is something to say about the hesitation to scream it out come Easter morning. There are some situations that make it difficult to get past Good Friday.

My mother went on oxygen last Sunday night (as Easter sunrise had declined into darkness), breathing irregularly and not responding. She herself has declined beyond what most would consider, on a fundamental level, life. Hovering around 65 pounds, rarely eating, drinking, or reacting to outside stimuli, she is literally a ghost.

I can imagine the shock of Mary when she found the tomb empty, and the shock when she recognized the gardener as Jesus. I’m not sure which shock was greater. But I do know that what this first (literal) apostle experienced next – that there is nowhere where God is not – has formed the bedrock of Christian faith.

And, sometimes, when what you see is death, it’s hard to proclaim the risen Christ. But that’s precisely what we believe – that there is no place that is God-forsaken. Jesus’ unbelievable resurrection conquers the all-too-real death so many see and experience. Let us remember them in the midst of our Easter celebration.