A Tender Resurrection

A rainy sunrise under lock down isn't really helping.
I miss the together of Easter Sunday,
the happy greetings and wide-armed hugs.
I miss the bigness of Easter Sunday,
the music and the strength
and the re-enactment of the disciples' wild joy.

I miss going in so early on Easter Sunday,
to watch the sunrise over the church building,
as if the sun itself was re-enacting the Son.

This is it for us Christians.
This is our big day.

But this year, not so much.

We'll try.
My church and other churches will do our best
to help us "connect" on line
and "celebrate" on line
and "worship" on line
and "do Easter" on line.

My husband and I will mark this day together
with a meal
and prayer.

I have an Easter lily!

But it takes more effort this year
to be all that excited.

I think I'm supposed to be.
I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to be able to put it all to one side
and be excited
write something here that reflects all of that.

But it's a different way of being for me this Easter Sunday.
More like Mary hearing Him say her name.



It's John that records this moment of tenderness
in his resurrection account.

Mary, beside herself in grief and confusion,
desperately longing to finish the anguished task
of properly anointing the body for burial,
a ritual of respect
and love.

But now the body is gone!
After all they'd already done to Him.
This too?
This degradation?

She is overcome with all the dreadful dashing of hope.
Sobbing.
Like this morning's sky, I think.

And then she's interrupted by a Voice.

"Why are you crying?  Who are you looking for?"

John writes her reply as if it was almost polite.
But I hear a sudden intake of air,
the sobbing being startled to a sudden halt.
I hear more anger and accusation
coming from deep in her throat.
A lashing out, a meltdown,
with all the energy of grief.

"Where is He?!!!
What have you done with Him?!!!"

And that's when He says it.
Her name.

Simply.

"Mary."

And then she knows!
And then everything changes.

Wild! Clutching!  Joy!

I need this tender resurrection this morning.
And the real and living intimacy
of a Risen Saviour
who knows my name.

And it will be enough for today.
More than enough.

Because the resurrection bursts out of all restrictions.
If death could not hold it back,
then neither can a pandemic.

Worship.
Love.
Truth.