What's Easter?

"Resurrection" by Piero della Francesca, 15th Cent.

“But the angel said to the women, 'Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has been raised...'” (Matthew 28:5-6a)

Several months back I was listening to a really cool program about story-telling called the “Moth Radio Hour” on National Public Radio. I heard a great tale told by a retired United Methodist pastor named Wayne Reece. Pastor Reeve told how he received inspiration for his first Easter sermon from a gang of bikers in a Texas dive bar sometime in the early 1960's. I won't share his story because, well, it's his story and he tells it better than I do. Besides, you can hear him tell it yourself if you click on this link: Pastor Reece. I will say, however, that it got me to thinking as the key point of the story came when one of the bikers asked Pastor Reece quite innocently and sincerely “What's Easter?”

What's Easter?

What's Easter to you? If someone asked you that question, how would you answer?

I can tell you what it is to me. It's the most sacred day in the Christian calendar, and one that I dearly love. It's the day I gather with Christians I don't even know and watch the sun come up over the Delaware River, reliving the story in scripture where the women came to Christ's sepulcher at dawn only to find the tomb empty. It's the day of irrational joy and the shout of “He is risen!”

And here's the story in the simplest way I can tell it: Once upon a time there was a man. He was born to an un-wed peasant girl in a hick town. He had a blue collar working stiff for a step-father. When he wasn't even a toddler his family became refugees. He finally relocated to his native country. As a kid, he had a profound interest in spiritual things, but he grew up working with his hands. When he was thirty years of age, he was baptized by his cousin and proclaimed the one who would save his people. For three years he wandered throughout the country as a preacher, teacher, and healer. He broke the societal rules by hanging out with all the wrong people—hookers, collaborators with the foreign government that had invaded his homeland, foreigners, and anyone on the outside of the community. He had a gang of twelve disciples who were mostly unlettered working stiffs. They were peasants just like he was. But people were drawn to him, and he changed their lives. He spoke of peace and love of enemies and compassion for the poor and God's forgiveness.

He wasn't a revolutionary or a terrorist, but he spoke truth to power, and the power decided to kill him. One of his closest friends sold him out to the authorities. His other friends deserted him when he was arrested. He was executed in a cruel, painful, and humiliating fashion. It took him three hours to die.

As soon as they could, a group of women, more faithful to him than the men had been, came to anoint his body as a final show of love. When they came to his tomb, they were told that he had risen from the dead. And they were afraid.

Why afraid? Surely, this was good news. Their beloved teacher was alive. But if I had to put myself in this story, I think I would know what these ladies felt.

What's Easter once we stop hiding behind the colored eggs and bunnies? Couldn't it be a time to start believing that the life of this man Jesus changed the world, and that we live in that reality? Couldn't we take the risk of believing those few terrified souls who, long ago, knew their teacher to be alive even after his death? Couldn't we take the risk of pondering what it means to live in eternity?

And, yes, it is risky. Believing something so glorious as life eternal, forgiveness, and your own worthiness in the eyes of God can be scary since we're so accustomed to having to prove everything—even to ourselves.

I get it. When I was an actor—even when I was working—I couldn't believe that I actually belonged in the profession I so desperately and pathetically yearned to be in. I walked through the studio and got before the cameras terrified that I would be found out to be an imposter. Eventually, my fear of the unreality of it all paralyzed me, and I wasn't able to audition any longer. People very kindly say I left the “business” because God had other plans for me (which I believe is true), but I know in my heart it was because I was afraid. I just couldn't accept the good news that I had been found worthy.

What's Easter? Can you accept the good news that Christ took on all of our pain, all of our disgrace, all of our insecurity, temptation, and loss—just so we could take on his immortal glory? Do you believe that he has gone, as the scripture tells us, “ahead of you to Galilee,” gone back home, and that there is no place you will ever go in your life's journey where he has not gone? And that you will one day be at home with him?

What's Easter to you? May it be the day when we take the risk of saying—in the face of everything this ephemeral world throws at us—HE IS RISEN!

And because he lives, we will  live, too.

A blessed Easter to you all. Thanks for reading.