I think of so many wonderful things on days like today. I think of overwhelming hope in the face of what used to be overwhelming despair, special church services, favorite hymns, and ridiculous-but-delicious Cadbury eggs. I think of time with family. I think of happy Facebook statuses that take a one-day break from opinions, debates, and arguments for the sake of rejoicing in the good. I think of grace and gratitude and warm sunshine in my soul. I think of everything being new. Easter is great, is it not?
The hard part, for me, though, is to transport the meaning of Easter to the rest of things. To the rest of the days of the year, even the very Monday that comes after it. If everything that I love about Easter is true today, then I must ask myself: Will Easter still be true tomorrow?
See, I've been weary lately. Not of my life, or the (kind, thoughtful, handsome, wonderful) husband, or the job, but of this world we Christians construct around ourselves sometimes. I've been weary of those debates and arguments we've all been having, in the name of protecting what we have. To be honest, I'm kind of sick of working through who is right and who is wrong and who is in and who is out. That is definitely a naive thing to say, because, I know...discourse! ...righteousness! ...principles!
Of course it is easier to skip the tough discussions, hard questions, and honest dialogue. There is truly a place for those things. I believe that place happens to be face to face with some relationship-buliding behind it, but hard questions and tough discussions is where growth happens. I am such a sucker, though, for seeing the world in variations of gray rather than black and white, which makes it fun for my black-and-white-minded husband to try to figure out my weird brain. Poor guy.
And yet, I've felt this freedom, today, on Easter, from all of those hard discussions. He has risen. He is alive. Everything can be new again.
I've been tired of being so defensive. Do we really have to argue down every issue or political stance or debate that comes up against us? See, when I think of Easter and how it is so true, I feel this incredible weight off my shoulders that tells me Easter doesn't need fighting for; it speaks for itself. It just needs sharing. If we spent half as much of our time living out the redemptive meaning of Easter as we do typing up snarky rants against those who disagree with it, I think our message of grace would hit much more deeply. This is me preaching to myself as much as anyone: there is something pretty powerful about living a life of love rather than rationalizing a life of rhetoric. Maybe that's silly to you, but as a compulsive over-analyzer, it sounds heavenly to me.
I think about myself and see all the things that God can take and make brand new in me: my confidence, my wanderlust, my self-image, my insecurities, and my doubts. I have an overwhelming hope when I think about Easter intersecting with those things. The same power that allowed Jesus to live again is the power that can come into my life to work in all of those dark corners. He can make everything in me new again.
Do you think we could all be new again? Could the way we address each other, the way we judge one another, the things we assume of one another, all change and be made new, like it's Easter every day? Could we live an Easter life at work, at home, at church? Could we live an Easter life online with one another, too? Even when we're commenting on articles or pictures or blog posts? I really think we can.
As I head into the day after Easter, I'm going to try and see what it's like to spill a little of today's clarity and freedom into the rest of the week. Easter will still be true tomorrow, and every day after that. Hallelujah!
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