Eastertide: Managing Hope and Lament

Today I got dressed for Easter Sunday - a beautiful blue dress with sparkling earrings and a pair of slippers. I curled my hair, put on makeup, and a normal bra. Walking downstairs, I set up an iphone tripod, our computer, and a mic. Recording Sunday services from our home has become a new normal. Recording an Easter service was something different. How do you record an Easter service? A different question - how do you have an Easter service without any people together?

I watched the clock roll into 9:45 am when our virtual coffee hour would begin, and gradually people began to show up. We greeted one another warmly. Asking questions, making passing jokes. I quickly realized that while we can't be together in physical presence, we could be together in Spirit. Even still, something felt hard about today. And it is only now that I am able to connect what today meant for me and I'm guessing for others. I have been feeling deeply the weight of lament for so many who have been impacted by Corona that it was hard to find space within my person to reach for the Hope of Easter.

In our time on Earth, we live with hope filled expectation that one day we will be united fully with Christ. When life suggests that this work is not yet fully completed - bad things happening to good people, the emergence of a worldwide pandemic, etc - Easter is the very day that grants us hope. For me today, more than any other time in my memory, I felt this tension, between hope and lament, painfully. The physical distance of my friends and family somehow digging in deeper the reality that Christ needs to come again. I will admit, it was hard for me to want to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus this day - because the very pain of the world, the groans and aching of people around our communities are loud. People are afraid and anxious and I am often among them.

And yet, Christ has died and risen! This is true - whether I feel like it is or not. Somehow, by the mysterious work of the Spirit, the weight of this truth found its way into our closing moments together as a church. We concluded our service through communion (it was a bit patched together, people using water, cheez-its, and whatever else they had.) But by the bread and the cup the Spirit comforted my soul. As we broke bread and dipped it in the cup; I felt the peace of Christ settling me. For the first time in weeks, I did not feel like I was in worship on a screen - but I was one by the same Spirit in the many homes gathered together as Christ's body. And this is the magic of Easter and the ongoing work of Jesus today. The Kingdom of God IS advancing - not the Kingdom

at some point will advance. No, the Kingdom IS advancing. People are being healed. Families are experiencing new life again. People are bored. The environment is experiencing some much needed replenishing. The body of Christ is still convening. The people of Christ are still united.

The balance of this Eastertide, like a weighted scale my friends, will be tricky. Right now, the scale is weighted against us. There is tragedy in the air. And these things must not be ignored. But lamented. We must acknowledge and address the evil that is at work through things like classism and racism especially. We must lament. And also, times like these continue to call for the uplifting

of the body. Friends, it is not wrong for us to celebrate the good work of the Kingdom of God during this time. It is also not wrong for us to hope and ask for God's intervention during this time. In fact, it is hope that will guide us through. Because of today, we can confess with certainty that the light shines in the darkness and the darkness will not overcome it - because Christ lives! And because Christ lives, we can look for the many ways that goodness if coming upon us. Friends, may we have the courage, particularly when things look their darkest, to look for the light, because I promise, you will find Christ shining radiant as the sun.