Not just a small little Easter

In these strange times, our traditions may have changed in the way we celebrate this day.  But Easter is not different this year.  It is not just a small little Easter, but perhaps, without all the trappings and wrappings and things added to it through the ages, the message of Easter is clearer now, more than ever before.

Christ has risen.
He has risen indeed.
He is still our resurrected Savior.

And He is still in the life-changing business.

There are seven words that altered the world.
At Christmas, the angels declared,
              "He is here!"
At Easter, the angel proclaimed,
               "He is not here!"

Jesus said,
   "I am the resurrection
                  and the life.
Whoever believes in Me,
though He die,
                yet shall He live."

                        John 11. 25

The Gospel literally means
              "Good News"
that this life
           is not all there is.
That is why Jesus came and died
                      and rose again
that we can live forever.
We are loved,
          more than we can know.
We are not alone,
                  even in this.

It's not just a small little Easter
                               after all.

Jesus is all over it.

Defining moments

 
We all have been reeling from the radical changes that have hit us in the past five weeks.

Strange as it may seem, the difficulties, the demise of health and economy, the lockdowns, began about the time of Ash Wednesday, February 26 this year, the beginning of Lent.

Lent now has a new tangible definition that we will never forget.  Lent is traditionally preparation for Easter through prayer and repentance and self-denial, so that when Easter is celebrated, we realize the significance of Christ's suffering for us.  Without Good Friday, there is no Easter.

This year, Lent became not just a serious contemplation about suffering, but a daily visible reminder of the deep suffering around the world.  The often trivial handling of Lent -- giving up chocolate and other indulgent behaviors-- seemed so shallow in the light of the suffering before us and grasping the entirety of this broken world.  There is not one of us who has not been touched in some way by this.  Each of us was compelled in our own ways, to push back the darkness as much as we are able by staying at home to decrease not just unnecessary exposure for us and others, but to increase life.

Every life is sacred.  Every day of staying home, every hour of lockdown, opens up another hospital bed, makes available yet another ventilator, and saves another life.  This is far beyond inconvenience and mere momentary affliction, but life itself.  I really struggled with "What can I do?" Stay home. That is the most loving way we can respond.  It is a matter of life and death.  And that life may not be your own.

I have thought almost continually this year during Lent about those selfless servants in desperate conditions in hospitals and clinics, putting themselves right in the path of this deadly invisible foe named Covid.  May we be totally aware of, pray for, and thank these heroes, the exhausted doctors and nurses and support staff who have given up everything to save innumerable lives.

Night after night, the news stations broadcast the sheer intensifying numbers, but the medical professionals know names and faces.  Those who are extremely sick, struggling for breath, and dying are people -- someone's sister, child, dad, cousin, neighbor -- not a statistic.

As we approach Easter this Sunday, may we be reminded of Jesus who came to die to save us from our own brokenness.  He suffered and gave his life, because He loves each one of us.  This is not a religious belief, but a life-changing personal relationship.

On Palm Sunday, Jesus entered Jerusalem to shouts of "Hosanna!"  which does not mean "Woohoo! Go Jesus!"  But "Lord, save us!"   Jesus was not coming to conquer the ensuing political domination, but to die and conquer the enslavement of our own selfishness, which is what sin is.  On the cross, Christ redeemed those shouts of "Lord, save us." 

And on Easter, Hosanna was translated into Hallelujah.  Christ rose from the grave to prove He is who He said He is.  "He is not here.  He is risen, as He said." (Matthew 28. 6)  Good Friday was not the end of the story after all. 

On this Easter, celebrate, but please rejoice at home.  Let your Easter celebration at home allow someone to live.  No one is immune from this pestilence.  It matters.  It matters a lot.  Easter, after all, is not about family get-togethers, bunnies, ham dinner and jelly beans, but what Christ has done for us.

He is risen.  He is risen indeed.   That we may live in relationship with Him and to live forever and ever.

By this we know love,
that He laid down His life for us...


                        1 John 3. 16

Because of Jesus,
    life can never be the same.
Our hope in Him
   is not based on wishful cheery thinking,
                      "We'll get through this!"
but our hope
   is on Whom 
                  we can stake our lives. 

Not just dirt

He said therefore,

"What is the

kingdom of God like?

And to what

     shall I compare it?

It is like

a grain of mustard seed

that a man took

and sowed in his garden,

and it grew

       and became a tree,

and the birds of the air

made nests in its branches.

            Luke 13. 18-19

In this time of Covid, a friend of mine who is an amazing poet has set aside her words and focused on her garden.  When I asked her this week how she was doing, she replied, "I am well.  Not writing, but my yard has never looked better."

Those neglected winter garden beds do not appear as just dirt to her. There is deep poetry in that soil,  that which is growing, that which is not yet ripe, that which is coming to the surface someday, that which needs a little care and dirt under her fingernails.

A tree does not just appear full-grown, but its majesty is built in infinitesimal increments.  It starts with a tiny little seed, nurtured even in impossible environments, and then, there is growth.  And God brings it.

This time we have been unexpectedly given is not just to be endured.  We will be changed not just by getting through it and moving into what is next, but by what is now.  What am I sowing today?  What am I planting?

 "I wish it need not have happened in my time," said Frodo.  "So do I," said Gandalf, "and 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 us."  -- J. R. R. Tolkien, Fellowship of the Ring

God has given to us this unusual time to not just do different things,

                   but to do the ordinary differently.

There is nothing insignificant in God's economy, 

nothing He cannot use,

                 no barren land, 

                               only that which has not yet visibly been transformed.

We see but the rocky soil choked with weeds

              or too bitterly hard to consider,

but God,

           God sees immense beauty

                                          already in the dirt.

God grows our smallest actions,

          even a kind and encouraging word,

                         into a perennial garden,

into a beautiful forest with refreshing shade

                  and tremendous fruit,

    an acoustic sanctuary

            for the chorus of birds,

                         the music of the spheres.

The mountains and the hills before us

shall break forth into singing,

and all the trees of the field

                    shall clap their hands.

                                 Isaiah 55. 12

I ran through the forest this morning

       surrounded by that rhythm and laughter,

   a thousand shades of newborn green,

                 refreshing my soul.

Faithfulness plants seeds,

    one no less valuable than another.

Faithfulness is not motivated

   by the end result,

       because we cannot comprehend

       the million layers of outcome,

   nor understand the deep abiding goodness

                    that crouches underneath,

   that someday will burst forth

            out of the ground that everyone

                       has given up on. 

What we do,

what we do for others

                   does something to us,

   the strengthening of our hearts,

   the deepening of vision,

the bearing of fruit,

the growing of magnificent trees

in ways we may

                   never recognize,

for the glory of God that

             will outlive us all,

Long Slow Distance

I had run this loop before, the stiff steep rolling hills that seem to go on forever.  As I approached another slope last Saturday morning, I could not even contemplate the whole hill.  But I've been here in this impossible place before.  I knew to put my head down and take one step at a time.  I knew if I looked up and saw how endless the hill appeared, I would stop.  And so I watched only the pavement immediately before my feet, following the cracks, the rough places, a pothole or two, the slightest turning of its edges, and took one step and then another.  I reached the ridge and kept on going.

It was not endless after all.

That is what endurance does.  It does not level the elevation and make it easier, but breaks up the mileage into steps, holding on just a little longer.  When it gets too much, well, I can reach that next curve or tree.  And then, well another, a little bit more.

When I resumed running, now some 20 years ago, I could barely reach the end of the block without stopping.  "Do you think you can run for two minutes?" one of our daughters asked me.  Sure.  That seemed do-able.  And so, she set my watch to beep at two minute intervals.  I would run two minutes, beep, walk two minutes, beep, and start running again.  Gradually, I was able to go a longer distance.

Each day a little stronger.  Even now, even in the midst of this crisis.  Every day is a story of God's faithfulness.  Every hour. Even in this very moment.

Last Saturday, as I faced that final daunting hill on my run,  I knew I just had to get up to the next slightly level spot, that landing of sorts, the next curve, that next tree, keep going, keep going.  Put  my head down and pace myself.

What we all face right now is not a race.  This difficulty is not a sprint, but a long slow distance.  It will not be over tomorrow.  Not even next week.  We are in this for the long haul.  That is what builds strength, endurance and resilience, even for what we are not yet aware.

It is time for different patterns.  It is time for a different pace.  The days at home may seem endless, but we can do something.  That one thing to get us going -- even emptying the dishwasher -- will lead to another.  There are no insignificant things.  No small steps.

And God will provide for the next.

One of my favorite books is Darlene Deibler Rose's memoir Evidence Not Seen in which as a very young woman, she endured solitary confinement in a Japanese prison camp during World War 2.  I was reminded of her remarkable story this morning.  In the course of the book, she wrote:

Deep in my heart He whispered, “I’m here.  Even when you don’t see Me, I’m here.  Never for a moment are you out of My sight.”

I am reminded too of God's promises written thousands of years ago in the Psalms, inscribed even for us, even for today.  

Blessed be the Lord,

   who daily bears us up.

God is our salvation.

   

               Psalm 68. 19

For Such A Time As This

On this St. Patrick's Day, we find not the hilarity of shamrocks and leprechauns, but a serious situation around the world, the very ground continually shifting beneath our feet, as it seems, from one hour to the next.

And so, I am posting again on this day that honors this faithful man, that which has been called the Breastplate of St. Patrick, a prayer for protection, written by him in 433 AD, as he sought to bring the gospel to Ireland and live out the love of Christ, even amidst violence, anger and apathy.  I love the words of this man as he prayed so very long ago, words that express my heart as well.  It is a cry for both protection and strength, no matter what is on the horizon, in the forecast, beneath our feet, unwieldy burdens in our arms, rocks and boulders on our paths, even surprises, mysteries, ambushes, high winds buffeting, and cliffs on our right.

Even then.  Even in this unsettling situation, his prayer was written down centuries ago, seemingly for such a time as this.  Patrick lived out what he found in the scriptures:

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.  I will say to the LORD, "My refuge and my fortress, my God, in Whom I trust." (Psalm 91. 1-2)

Patrick's prayer is not just a cry for God's strength but starting the day binding myself to Him, and knowing despite all, it is Christ who holds me fast.

I bind unto myself today
The strong name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same,
The Three in One,
      and One in Three.

I bind this day to me for ever,
By power of faith,
      Christ's incarnation;
His baptism in the Jordan River;
His death on the cross
       for my salvation.
His bursting from the spiced tomb;
His riding up the heav'nly way;
His coming at the day of doom;
I bind unto myself today.

I bind unto myself today
The power of God
            to hold and lead,
His eye to watch,
            His might to stay,
His ear to hearken to my need;
The wisdom of my God to teach,
His hand to guide,
             His shield to ward,
The word of God to give me speech,
His heav'nly host to be my guard.

Against all Satan's spells and wiles,
Against false words of heresy,
Against the knowledge that defiles,
Against the heart's idolatry,
Against the wizard's evil craft,
Against the death-wound and the burning,
The choking wave, the poison'd shaft,
Protect me, Christ, till thy returning.

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me,
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

I bind unto myself the name,
The strong name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same,
The Three in One, and One in Three,
Of whom all nature hath creation,
Eternal Father, Spirit, Word.
Praise to the Lord of my salvation:
Salvation is of Christ the Lord.