The Easter Paradox

 

¹¹ Now Mary stood outside the tomb crying. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb ¹² and saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus’ body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot. ¹³ They asked her, “Woman, why are you crying?” “They have taken my Lord away,” she said, “and I don’t know where they have put him.” ¹⁴ At this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not realize that it was Jesus. ¹⁵ He asked her, “Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?” Thinking he was the gardener, she said, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.” ¹⁶ Jesus said to her, “Mary.” She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means “Teacher”).

 

Yesterday we wept with Mary over the state of our world.  Mary the Tower (which is what Magdalene means) stood at the juxtaposition of grief and good news.  Outside the empty tomb, in the presence of angels, is where we find ourselves every day.  Remember, during Lent, I shared the quote for Frederick Buechner, who said, “Here is the world.  Beautiful and terrible things will happen.  Don’t be afraid.”  This is where faith leads us ~ to a place where grief and good news are side-by-side in tension.  There are experiences and evidence of the terrible and the beautiful over the course of weeks and days in your life.  For me, I hold the realities of war, relationship ruptures, brash bullies, and social discrimination alongside places and people who are compassionate and caring ~ even when the two contradict and seem to cancel each other out.  Life is not some math equation we are solving, but an experience we are living.  I hold both the hurt and heart-warming truths.  I hold the tears and the laughter.  I hold the honest brokenness and beauty of friends and love.  Both are true.  Both are part of being an Easter-ing people.  Today, write down your griefs/pains and your experiences of good news of God’s grace and love.  Today, name and notice the shapes of your tears and the sounds of holy interruptions.  To be an Easter-ing people isn’t endless brass blaring, chocolate consuming, or lily aromas wafting in the air.  Easter-ing is the ability to hold together the twin truths of beauty and brokenness, saying, “Here I am, God.”  May this be our prayer posture today and in the days to come.  Amen.