A Tale of Two Easters

"He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." - Revelation 21:4

The Bad
Easter was a rough day for our family. Actually all of Holy Week was rough for our family. We kept our kids out too late. We fed them bad food. We were very busy preparing for Holy Week services and things like bedtimes and meals got left behind.

Oh yeah. And I decided to choose this week to try to put both kids in the same room for sleeping. All four of us lost a lot of sleep with that transition.

I think the low point came on Friday morning when Amos threw up the pound of Craisins we had given him the day before (so that he would stop interrupting us saying, "B'ries? B'ries?") And also the brownie that a well-meaning sixth grader gave him for dessert Thursday night. And then after he threw up, we took him to daycare anyway. Not our best parenting moment.

Or maybe the low point was when our church decorator quit. Asking a seventy-five year old (and her eighty-year-old best friend) to set up for a Seder Meal on Thursday night, a Good Friday service on Friday, and then redecorate the entire sanctuary on Saturday for Easter Sunday may have been too much. She informed us that she would be resigning not only from her position as church decorator, but would also be taking some time off from attending church to focus on her health. Not our best pastoral moment.

This ham would have made a great Easter dinner...

And our Easter dinner. I had it all planned. We bought a ham. I had everything I needed for sides. And then as we were greeting people after the service on Sunday, somebody asked what we were doing for lunch. It was at that point that I realized that the ham was still sitting in the refrigerator waiting to be cooked, and we had nothing to eat. No problem--we all just ate Easter chocolate and called it good. Another not so great parenting moment.

And while I was greeting people after the service, our sweet baby girl made some very distinct noises, and I looked down in time to see a mustard-colored spot forming on her clothes around her diaper. I finished greeting people, holding her awkwardly at arms' length to keep her from spreading her gift any further.

Today, as I type this, both kids have fevers. The dishes aren't done. The general disarray left over from a very busy week is staring me in the face, reminding me that while the old order of things may have passed away, the new order isn't quite here yet.

As G.K. Chesterton so picturesquely put it, "There comes an hour in the afternoon when the child is tired of 'pretending'; when he is weary of being a robber or a cowboy. It is then that he torments the cat... The effect of this staleness is everywhere."

Yes, on Easter Sunday, we celebrate the resurrection, Almighty God's decisive victory over the forces of sin and death. But then on Monday, we wake up in the same world, where sickness, pain, and death remain. Where tears still fall and grief still weighs us down. We take off our fancy Easter suits and dresses and put back on our everyday work clothes. Even on Easter Sunday, we can't escape the reality of an imperfect world.

The Good
On Thursday night we had a Christian Seder Meal at our church. We read Scripture together and sang. And then we ate. We had a wonderful roast lamb (thanks to Costco's excellent cooks), homemade charoset and unleavened bread, and a full meal of all kinds of good food. One of our congregants posted this on Facebook:

"Last night's Seder Meal was awesome! I think it gives me just a glimpse of what it will be like one day when I'll be sitting with Jesus and all the past saints who have gone before. Now THAT will be an awesome meal!" 

"Jesus is laid in the tomb"

Our Good Friday service was a group effort. Almost every person there participated in some way. We divided up the traditional stations of the cross. One man brought in a hundred pounds worth of dog food attached to a backpack, so we could feel what it would have been like for Jesus to carry his cross. One man brought some wine that had fermented so we could taste bitter wine. A woman researched Jesus' words to the women of Jerusalem and shared her findings. Two of our teens played their instruments in front of our church for the first time. A man combined two of the Gospel accounts to create a dramatic reading. Another of our teens wrote words of gratitude that we used on Easter Sunday as a responsive reading. It was an informal service, but so much more impactful than if Mike or I had just done all the research ourselves. Members of our congregation now know more about the stations of the cross than their pastors!

I love being part of a church that is small enough for everyone to be involved. And that is full of people who are eager to be involved, who will put time and effort into researching and thinking creatively (and will overcome their fears of public speaking!) I loved the enthusiasm surrounding our services, and I'm excited for next year. I loved seeing people use their gifts in the service of the church in ways that blessed all of us.

The Gospel
All week, I agonized over writing my first Easter sermon. For one thing, there are all kinds of venues for hearing the Gospel at Christmas (A Charlie Brown Christmas, for example), but at Easter, it's pretty much up to us church people. Popular culture hasn't really jumped on the crucifixion/resurrection bandwagon. Easter bunnies, egg hunts, and brunch seem to be the order for the day outside the church (and--let's be honest--in the church too). All that to say, I was feeling the pressure to say something profound!

Here's what really got me down, though. I had a rough week. Not sleeping, sick kids, lots of preparations and busyness. I was exhausted and discouraged all week.

It turns out that it was good to write a sermon in the midst of that. It forced me to ask if the resurrection really matters. Sure it matters on Easter Sunday when we sing lots of songs and dress our kids up in cute clothes. But does it matter when we're exhausted and overwhelmed? Does it matter when depression sets in? Or illness? Does it matter when hundreds of schoolchildren are massacred for their faith?

One of the many things we didn't do...

When we came home from church to a messy house with no food and exhausted, sick kids, I realized that I actually believed what I was preaching. The resurrection actually does matter. I was surprised to find that I wasn't even upset about our failure to observe Easter in all the Facebook/Pinterest ways.

I discovered that the joy of reading words written by one of our teens as part of our worship service, of hearing our congregants share what they learned about the crucifixion in our Good Friday service, of eating together and leading a Christian Seder, and of getting the opportunity to proclaim the good news of the kingdom of God dwelt way more deeply within me than my expectations of a nice meal or some time off.

Praise be to God.

Christ is risen!

We managed to find time to take some pictures!