What does it mean to experience resurrection? I think of this question often. I think our culture has a habit of being like the parishioner who wants to skip Good Friday and move from Palm Sunday to Easter and avoid all of the pain. That pain is part of our journey. I am not masochist, I don’t like pain or hurt or disappointment any more than you do. But I also know the pain I have inflicted and repented for, the pain inflicted on me that I have worked through and the pain that is the nature consequence of aging and knowing persons who die and feeling the disappointment of injustice experienced by others, has made me a more empathetic and wiser person. There is no doubt about this.
I used to be a people-pleaser, someone who desperately wanted to be liked, respected and be considered a “success”. Today I can spend hours alone, doing things no one else would experience as fun or interesting, and not care a hoot what others think. I do care that my work is well-received, I want the church to offer something transformational, I want my words to be heard clearly, I want my pastoral care to be experienced as healing. But I know that if money is not an issue I can retire in 2025 and never be in front of a crowd again. And ironically, the less certain I am about things the more certain I am that I know what matters.
Resurrection for me is walking through the struggles of life with passion, intent and humility, waiting to move from brokenness to healing and from healing to new life and hope. Each time I go down I learn something new about myself, the world and this deep Spirit that moves through Creation. I have confidence that the lows will not last, that the growth periods are what make life so interesting and the highs will not last but will always be remembered.
I feel resurrection when in the midst of loss I gain the insight of what truly matters. I feel resurrection when I walk beside someone who is hurting, broken and open to new life and I see the hope emerge from nowhere. I also know that small moments make the shift real. I am not one of those sentimentalists that tries to capture the Divine in a greeting card or over-the-top pronouncement (“You are the best…ever”). I do think the big picture matters and systematic approaches can never be overlooked. BUT there are small movements and experiences that tell a bigger story and paying attention to these makes all the difference.
A friend who lived with crippling depression opens up to join a community group and attends her first gathering. Someone I know who has lived through abuse and therefore shunned all romantic possibilities agrees to go on a date. Someone who was raised an atheist and mocked churches and Christians his whole life feels the tug of attending an Easter service. There is a sense of hope coming to life in one who previously thought hope a pipe-dream. There is a sense that a Spirit, a Divine presence, a feeling of “not being alone” carries us through to a new place. These are resurrection experiences. They happen. They happen to me. They happen to those I know. And they happen to those I have never met. Thanks be to God.