Empty cross
Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash
Easter. The Christian faith pivots around Easter. As every direction from the North Pole is south, wherever we go from here is Easter. Maundy Thursday, two words. Good Friday, two words. Easter: one word. Easter is the essence of Christianity. In a sense, Easter explains itself. We should be able to say this single word and walk away. As much as we’d like to do so, we know we can’t. This single word, Easter, is so multilayered that after two thousand years, we’re still trying to understand its implications. What does it mean to experience Easter? Can language or words be used for an event such as Easter? Is Easter something that happens to us, or do we happen to Easter? What does it mean to die? What does it mean to live?
We can talk about how Easter makes us feel (saved, redeemed, free), but do we understand its tangible impact on our actions? Easter isn’t a feeling or an emotion. It’s not a biochemical reaction in the brain. Easter demands a response. Easter demands something from the lives of believers. Easter is not a passive celebration. Easter isn’t a movie or a Broadway show. We’re not watching a passion play unfold as ticket-paying customers. Easter isn’t entertainment. It’s a punch in the gut that forces you to come to terms with the most significant questions humanity has ever asked. If you’re not sucking wind and asking, “What the hell just happened?” you’re not experiencing Easter. Observing Easter and engaging with Easter are two entirely different propositions.
When we engage with Easter, it’s an act of vulnerability. Questions make us nervous. We don’t know if we’re up to answering, and we become defensive. Rarely do we open ourselves to situations where we ask, “What do you demand of me?” We can ask that question of a person, place, or thing. Easter is not a noun. Easter is an event, an experience. This unexplainable moment in time to which we have attached cosmic significance makes demands on our lives. We want to define Easter instead of letting it define us. As such, the church attempts to stage-manage Easter. Year after year, the same hymns, liturgies, and recycled sermons tell the story of a manageable middle-class Messiah and the run-of-the-mill Resurrection. Jesus is now ready to fit cleanly back into our lives as the dismal days of Lent and Holy Week fade into the rearview mirror.
Easter asks hard questions we may be unwilling or unable to answer. Yet, we must try. Nothing about Easter should be predictable. Easter exclaims, “Explain the emptiness!” “Tell me what happened.” “Do not tell me what the text says. Please tell me what you believe. What does the Resurrection mean? Do the dead truly live? Where is love in a world full of death? Despite your understanding of God’s love, why do you hate anyone? In absence, where can the world find presence?” Easter demands we attempt answers, not recycled platitudes. Speak and put words to your beliefs. Easter awaits our reply.
Easter is not about you or me. It is about all of us. Perhaps this is Easter’s most significant demand; Easter, like Jesus, implores us to remember that we live in a community and have neighbors. Everyone has a stake in Easter. If we love our neighbors in the same way we claim Jesus loves all of humanity, we might begin to meet some of Easter’s most challenging demands.
https://richardlbryant.substack.com/p/easter-is-not-a-noun