Easter 2020

 What is Easter Sunday without the lilies, the breakfast, the suits and ties and dresses, the visitors, and the flowered cross?  I have all the pictures in my mind of all the Easters of my life and none looked like this.  But maybe this one most resembles the first Easter.  The disciples were afraid.  No one knew what would happen next.  Life had been upended.  People didn’t know where to turn.  There was a lot of uncertainty and fear.  Jesus’ followers were hiding out, social-distancing as a way to protect themselves from unseen threats.

Today all our plans are on hold.  There are no extended family gatherings, just gatherings with the family we have already been at home with for 3 or 4 weeks.  We read the headlines and we are afraid, and for good reason.  We don’t know what will happen in the coming days, weeks, or months.  Are we at the peak?  Will there be waves?  Will we know someone who dies from this virus?  Life is upside down.  We don’t know where to turn. 

We stand at the grave on this Easter morning, weeping.  We are afraid.  We come to Jesus’ grave for comfort.  The earth shakes and the stone is rolled away, revealing no Jesus at all, but only darkness and emptiness.  We are told not to be afraid, but we don’t even know where to start. 

The grave is empty, our church is empty, our calendars are empty.  And into this abyss, we defiantly shout, “Alleluia!”  Maybe it is with more of a question mark than an exclamation point.  Maybe we aren’t sure we are ready to say it.  But we say it anyway, quiet at first, but gaining momentum.  We continue to praise God in times of struggle, not just when days are rosy. 

In a few week’s time our world has changed.  People are suffering and dying all over the world.  Millions of people have lost their jobs, their income, their health insurance just when they need it most.  We proclaim that Christ is risen.  We stand in the face of death and sing Alleluia, praise God!

We don’t say Alleluia because we deny reality.  We don’t deny the pain of disease and suffering or death.  We don’t deny environmental destruction.  We don’t deny injustice that puts the poorest people behind bars and frees those with wealth.  We have our eyes open to these things now more than ever.  And in the face of all that we continue to worship and praise God, we find words for our hope that things will not always be this way.

Someone said to me last week of a loved one who was dying that they just couldn’t believe there was no hope.  Sometimes we hope that our friends and family will live forever or that no one will get sick and die.  If this is our hope, we will be disappointed.  Even Jesus died, the Son of God, in a cruel and horrific manner.  Earthquakes will occur. Famines will devastate the land.  Plagues and pandemics will take their victims.  And still we shout, “Alleluia!”  We continue to praise God.

We shout “Alleluia!” because we place our hope in Jesus.  Jesus knows our pain.  Jesus faced so many of the same trials we face.  Jesus walked this earth, the heaviness of the world weighing on his heart.  Jesus stood up to injustice and fear at his own risk.  Jesus gave his life.  And death did not defeat him.  Although we betray and deny him, Jesus makes us his siblings, members of his own beloved family, adopted.  And as his family members we have too will be raised to new life. 

And we do not shout Alleluia and just stand around hoping we will be spared trials and illness.  Instead, we are called upon to use what power we have on behalf of others, inconveniencing our lives to ease their burdens.  Instead our Alleluias become action to help others in need.  Our Alleluias lead us to the cross, to die, to let go of our comforts and need to be important.  But still we shout “Alleluia!” because Jesus is with us at the cross, at the hour of our death, wiping away our tears, and raising us up to new life.

We cry Alleluia this day, Christ is risen!  The grave is still there gaping.  We are confused and tired and haven’t learned what to do about our fear.  But Christ is risen!  And we, like the women at the grave, have both fear and great joy.  I have been experiencing a mix of these two emotions a lot lately.  I felt it when I saw my neighbor mowing his lawn in his hazmat suit.  I felt it when I saw a little library on one of my walks that had a couple of instant noodle soups in them and I was overwhelmed by people’s generosity and also baffled about how little would make a difference for those who are hungry.  I felt it as I signed on to Zoom—fear and joy!

We have the assurance that Christ is Risen!  Christ is risen in each preschool teacher who bravely comes to work each day with little recognition and risks her health caring for the children of the first responders.  Christ is risen in each person who shares a mask or food or comfort with a neighbor.  Christ is risen in each person who resists the temptation to leave the house and stops the virus from spreading.  Christ is risen in the blooming flowers and flourishing wildlife.  Christ is risen in every volunteer who gives blood or loads cars with bags of food or donates toilet paper to the FoodBank.  Where have you seen the risen Christ lately?  Stay and share your thoughts after the service.  Alleluia, Christ is Risen!  Christ is risen, indeed.  Alleluia!