Sunday, April 12, 2009


Easter began, quite literally for me, with the sound of shattering.

I'd fallen asleep only minutes before midnight, praying against hope to be asleep before the clock turned and the day changed. Needing somehow to wake up in the morning light and simply have it be Easter.

At about 20 past midnight, I woke to the sound of shattering glass, and my roommate moving around.

When I asked about it this morning, she told me that she'd missed the light switch while fumbling in the dark, and hit a picture instead, knocking it from the wall and causing the glass to break.

Somehow, that shattering sound was symbolic. Symbolic of a year in which many things have been broken.

And yet, it reminded me, too, of Easter. Of the curtain in the temple being torn in two, irreparable. God present with all people.
It was a full day.

The church I grew up in put on a full length play and musical this morning. A series of monologues my dad wrote nearly 25 years ago. "Faces in the Crowd." And so, you stand at the back of Golgatha, and listen as Ciaphas, the thief on the cross, Mary, John, Peter, Nicodemus, Mary Magdalene, a Centurion, and a bystander discuss the happenings of the crucifixion. You are given a window into their hearts. They did a fantastic job with the production - an accomplishment on a grand scale for such a small church.

There were moments that were deeply moving. That hit my heart deeply. The lines of Mary Magdalene, discussing the demons within her, and the way Jesus had freed her from them. The wandering, longing insanity from which she'd been delivered. My brother J. played the role of Nicodemus. A role that fits him somehow - this one with much knowledge, encountering the Christ and finding the fulfillment of that. And yet, there were lines in that monologue too, that were unexpected. A moment where he lifted his hands to heaven and begged for mercy, for Jesus to die quickly in the midst of his pain. And that prayer, too, I understood.

I'm thankful that He is risen. That easter has come. And I find myself praying still for resurrection to come fully within me, within my broken heart, within the hearts and lives of so many I love.

And so, as I pray, for the first time since Friday, since commemorating the death and burial of the Savior, I light the Christ candle that rests on my dresser, and say to the world "He is Risen! He is Risen Indeed! Alleluia!"