I have been struggling with Easter now for quite a while. Full-on faith deconstruction will do that to a person.
Because of that, it’s been several years since I felt drawn into an Easter Sunday Morning Service, and I’ve been ok with that. However, the spiritual work I’ve been doing over the last few months has brought me to a place where I had decided to attend an Easter Sunday Morning Service this year with friends at Holy Trinity Lutheran Church and I was actually looking forward to it! Unfortunately, either food poisoning or the nastiest of stomach bugs decided to attack me yesterday and instead of going to church to worship the risen Christ, I got to bow at the throne of the porcelain god for several hours, leaving me too weak and depleted to go anywhere today. So, instead of joining friends at church and the Easter potluck that was to follow, I find myself watching an Easter Service online in my little sunroom - just me and God, once again.
And I’m ok with that. One of the things I’ve learned in my recent spiritual journey is to not fight circumstances beyond my control. It doesn’t do any good to wish for a different outcome - might as well surrender to whatever situation you are in and make the best of it. I mean, God can make beauty out of ashes, right?
So, here I am rolling around in the ashes my day has brought me, sipping on some coffee slowly, (hoping it stays down) and listening to the worship team from GracePointe Church online sing a familiar melody from a hymn I grew up with called How deep the Father’s Love for us. What a beautiful melody! I realized the lyrics had been changed to reflect a more modern theology and I really loved them, so I jotted the first verse down:1
"How deep the Father’s love for us -- Such depth we cannot measure
For God created everyone -- And binds us all together
Why would we walk as enemies -- we are not disconnected
May kindness Be our remedy -- and every heart accept it"
Isn’t that a beautiful sentiment? Oh, if we could only realize how connected we all are and not view others who live differently, believe differently, vote differently, worship differently, etc… as our enemies.
Anyway - since I’m behind on my blogging and I’ve been too sick to write much this weekend, I decided to repost my thoughts from last year here because it might help someone out there who is still feeling unable to celebrate Easter this year. Much of what I wrote still rings true to me today, but not all of it. However, in the hopes that someone else might still need to feel this Holy Lament, I’m posting it for you. I pray it helps you feel some solidarity and also gives you hope that where you are today in your spiritual journey is not where you’ll be left. A journey is just that — a journey. And you aren’t alone as you walk. We are all in this together.
Much love on this Easter Sunday —- M
Original post written on Easter 2023:
I grew up celebrating Easter as a dyed-in-the-wool Southern Baptist. Christmas was always a big holiday for the SB’s but EASTER was the big party! OUR LORD IS RISEN!! UP FROM THE GRAVE HE AROSE!! DEATH HAS NO STING NOW!! (Ahem, death indeed still does have a sting, but…)
Easter was the day that Jesus arose from the grave, just like he predicted, after 3 days and 3 nights (Matthew 12:40). (I mean, he died on a Friday afternoon and the tomb was empty by Sunday morning, so I’m not sure how they got 3 days and 3 nights out of about 40 hrs, but ok…) His resurrection proved that he was indeed God’s son, sent to save us all from our sins. It’s the “biggie” in the Christian world. This was the final blow to Satan, death, and sin. Christians WIN. Yay!
As I look around our world today, I’m not sure I buy it anymore. I hear many people say, “If Jesus is RISEN, well then WHERE IS HE?” That’s a good question. I used to think I saw him in the works of other Christians, but now I’m not so sure.
Right now, I feel like I’m stuck in Good Friday, the day a good man was killed by the empire, just for preaching about love, justice, equality and forgiveness. Or maybe I’m in that Silent Saturday after he was killed but before he arose, waiting, waiting, waiting for a sign of hope. But I’m definitely not feeling the Sunday morning cheers of Easter. I don’t feel like putting on pastels colors and getting my picture made in the church lobby with my family wearing big smiles and holding up signs that say “HE IS RISEN!” and then participating in the obligatory Easter egg hunts.
I just can’t get in a celebratory mood while children and teachers are getting gunned down in schools and our legislators refuse to do anything about it.
I can’t celebrate while I see minorities continue to get mistreated, bullied and pushed out to the margins.
I can’t celebrate while people of other faiths are getting threatened around me and don’t feel safe in this country.
I can’t celebrate while churches continue to cover up sex abuse cases, forgive and even promote the men who abuse, and throw the victims off to the side.
I can’t celebrate watching Christian ministers fly around in private jets, stay in luxury suites, live in mansions and take the money from people living in literal slums to build their empires.
… and I can’t celebrate watching Christian leaders continue to champion a man of horrible moral character, who is clearly a fraud, and a liar, claiming him to be “our guy”, even “our savior”, and dare to compare him to Jesus Christ.
I. JUST. CAN’T.
My friend Stacey Byington Wynn posted a beautiful quote yesterday from Henri Nouwen that rang so true to me:
Isn’t Jesus’ suffering on the cross all about joining us in our suffering? Or is it the other way around? We suffer here in order to join Jesus in his suffering? I’ve heard it explained both ways. All I know is that Jesus always sided with the oppressed, the impoverished, the marginalized. He never, ever sided with the empire. I can relate to that Jesus.
In my heart, not much feels right in this world right now and I refuse to fake anything anymore. So here I am… wondering how to celebrate Easter.
I stumbled upon an article the other day that had *this quote:
That made so much sense to me. I feel like one of the women standing at the base of the cross, watching their Savior die right before their eyes, dumbfounded, confused and too hurt to cry. (that last part isn’t true. I’ve cried buckets lately over this.) Those devoted women at the cross stood there helplessly as they watched a man being murdered by the empire who proved over and over again to be nothing but full of love. A man who spent his life preaching about how we can better love God and each other. A man who always elevated the marginalized and lifted up the downtrodden. But the empire was too strong. Evil seemed to be winning that day.
And much of the time, evil seems to be winning now. Sadly, it seems in America that many Christians have become the empire. Greedy for power at all costs. Willing to use violence against anyone else that doesn’t believe what they believe and justifying their actions “because it’s for the Kingdom”. Has Americanized Christianity become a full-on cult?? Honestly, sometimes I wonder.
I went to my very first Good Friday service Friday evening. In my longing for something Holy in this Holy Week, I went to church. It was a beautiful service at a sweet little Lutheran church. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to walk into a church on Sunday morning, so this seemed like a good replacement. I wanted to grieve and lament, and I did. In the Holy Silence, I asked God all the questions rolling around in my head. In that sacred space, I felt a reassurance of sorts. As tears rolled down my face, I knew in that moment I knew where the risen Jesus is. Jesus was crying with me in that chapel. He hates what is happening around us too. I believe that with every fiber of my being.
On Saturday, I walked into my neighborhood Episcopal church and experienced my first Vigil Service. (Good Friday services and Vigil services were not part of the religions of my younger days.) Again, I felt like experiencing the “Silent Saturday”. The waiting. The wondering what was to come. Because that’s where I am right now and I know that Jesus meet us right where we are. I have experienced that so many times in my life.
If you are sitting home on Easter Sunday, like I am today, wondering what to do with Easter right now, I just hope you feel some solidarity in this post. I hope you are reminded that we don’t have to go to church to be with God. He is with us at all times and in us at all times. More and more, I hear his voice in the quiet of my sunroom, giving me wisdom and hope in ways that could only come from someone greater than I.
I haven’t given up on Jesus. Not yet. I still place my hope in him. My prayer for all of us who are lamenting this week is that we remember that on Good Friday and Silent Saturday, God was still working behind the scenes. When we don’t know what’s coming, when we open our hands in surrender, we we cry out “God, I don’t know what to do!!” — that is when I believe God is doing his greatest and most loving work.
Just like the women at the cross on Good Friday, or the disciples on Silent Saturday, they didn’t know what was coming. They probably felt hopeless, just like I have lately. But the story goes that even though they felt discouraged, alone, and heartbroken on that Silent Saturday -God was about to show up in a BIG WAY
Like Father Rohr says, Good Friday is “at the same moment the worst and best thing in human history.” We can lament and hope at the same time. This is where I am today- clinging to the foot of the cross, lamenting and hoping in El Roi, The God Who Sees.
So no matter where you are or what you believe, may you all be seen by God today on this Easter Sunday.
Honestly… Marcia
*image borrowed from article written by Paula Francis Price: https://medium.com/@paula.frances.price/i-dont-want-to-celebrate-easter-fc7bbd6e6e22
Lyrics written by GracePointe Church Nashville, TN Worship Team