For All Those Who Had Tears This Easter
Last Easter, my city was locked down. We were not able to gather as a church community, my grandfather had passed away a few days before, and it was an Easter steeped in grief.
This Easter, our government allowed churches to gather in person, distanced and with masks, of course, but at least we could gather. I had hoped that it would be a joyful Easter celebration.
The first song of the service started out well.
But, then, we sang a hymn.
Since my Grandfather died, I have found that hymns make me cry. And as they began the old familiar song, I was transported back to a cool, tile floor, country church where I sang Easter hymns next to my Grandfather.
My tears began to flow.
I was crying, not out of joyful celebration, but because the grief of this past year had been too much.
As the song went on, the grief was like a little string - pulling in all that had happened this past year. Over this pandemic, I have lost things I did not even know I could lose and I’m not just talking about COVID restrictions.
And then, I felt grief on behalf of others I knew, too. This pandemic has been like a fire, burning up so many things in its path - exposing brokenness everywhere.
I have a feeling that I was not the only one who had tears this Easter. And, while your story might not be the same as mine, I know there has been grief. People have lost loved ones, jobs, businesses, relationships, security, health, comfort, and hope.
When we are confronted with the beautiful truth of Jesus, we often feel our hurt more acutely. His safety and strength provides us space to truly experience our lives. His deeper reality hits our reality head on.
At first, I felt embarrassed and ashamed of my tears. This was supposed to be a happy service!
But, as I ignored the “should” voices and let go of my expectations, I realized that a Resurrection Sunday service was the exact right place to cry about loss. It was the best place to lay bare my grief.
The Resurrection of Jesus tells us that He is the only one able to deal with these things. He is the ONLY one who has done anything about the pain.
“There will be no more suffering, if you follow Jesus” is NOT the message of Easter.
The message of Easter is that suffering does not get the last word.
The message of Easter is that there is now a way through the tomb. There is now hope no matter how dark it gets. It is a message that we are being made into new creations through the perfect sacrifice of Jesus.
The message of Easter is not a life of easiness. it is the promise of hope. Easter proclaims to us that somehow - in the same mysterious power that raised Him from the dead and defeated all evil - Jesus holds all things together.
And though you and I cannot always reconcile the pain and hurt of this world and it, often, makes no sense to us, Jesus has done something about it. He is redeeming the world. Jesus now gets the last word and His word is perfect and true.
Our world reeks of the “not yet” but Jesus is offering you the “already” because in Him - all things hold together, right now AND in the future.
Friend, in the midst of a mysterious and incomprehensible pandemic filled with loss too many to count - you are being offered, anew, the hand of Jesus. He is lifting you out of the tomb. You can receive the good news that something has been done about the pain you carry. Death has been defeated, that pain has been answered. God sent himself to answer every cry that has come before and all the ones after. Even the tears you cried, over Easter.
Rather than think that Friday and Saturday are the only place for grief, Jesus invites you to pour out your heart on Sunday too. Because of Resurrection Sunday, Jesus says, “There is more and there is hope! I made sure of it! The tomb is empty! My wounds are healed. Place your fingers through the holes and see just how serious I am about seeing you through this. I went ahead of you and I will show you the way.”
Dear friend, if you cried over Easter, know that I cried too. Know, too, that Jesus is not naive. He knows that Easter does not mean that the difficult things have stopped. He stared all of that pain down, took it on himself, and knows it closer than anyone else.
Easter is the invitation to bring all that still needs to be healed and place it into the most trustworthy hands. The hands with the holes. The holes show you that all is being made new. These hands are all the hope that you need.
I will leave you with the words from another ancient hymn,
“He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy. For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross.
Colossians 1:17-20
Amen.