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| Photo by Amber Lamoreaux, pexels.com |
This is not your Easter. And it's ok to say that, to acknowledge the reality of that, and to sit in the disappointment that this beautiful day is not the one you wanted.
I'm struck by the notion that on this day where we celebrate resurrection, so many feel buried under the weight of fear, loss, and grief. This global pandemic has shaken the foundation of our society, and just as Jesus cried out in the depths of his suffering, so too have many of us asked, "My God, My God why have you forsaken me?"
Days have turned into weeks, and here we are on Resurrection Sunday buried under this weight. The cases keep mounting, people keep dying, and we're still in this tomb. Lord, when is our resurrection coming?
I won't pretend to have an answer.
But I do have a hope.
A hope that there is purpose in this collective pain. Hope that although we are socially distant we are growing emotionally closer. Hope that when we come out of this we'll be stronger and more united than before.
For too long we've allowed political discourse to divide us into red states and blue states, black and white, haves and have-nots. It's left us grasping for safety in homogeneous groups and disconnected from each other. But I have a hope that through this crisis we will turn towards each other, blinking with eyes that have been closed for too long, and say, "Hey....I remember you."
You're the one who sewed me a mask.
You're the one who put a teddy bear in your window so my kids could go on a neighborhood bear hunt.
You're the one who supported my small business.
You're the one who texted "There's toilet paper here--come now."
And with these new eyes, I hope we'll see what has been true all along:
People are people.
All pain is the same.
We are better together.
The crucifixion was horrific, but oh the change it made possible.
This pandemic is terrifying in so many ways, but oh what an opportunity we have--
To hit reset
To change the conversation
To choose each other
No, this is not your Easter-- it's not mine either--but it can be our new beginning.
