The Places We Look
One of my favorite questions in the bible is found in Luke 24:5 when the angel asks the women who arrive at the tomb carrying spices, “Why do you look for the living among the dead?” Can you imagine how you would feel if someone asked this of you when you were at the graveyard visiting a loved one? There is something almost gently confrontational in that question. They have come prepared for death, braced for grief and expecting silence. This question isn’t just for the women who came to the tomb where Jesus was laid, it is for all of us to consider as we prepare for Easter Morn and the good news that Jesus has risen. If we reflect on this question metaphorically we come to recognize that we, too, have tombs. What do I mean by this?
The tombs are the old identities we can’t seem to let go of. The tomb is our regrets that we revisit over and over again like they are sacred ground. The tomb symbolizes our wounds that still define how we see ourselves and the stories we repeat in our heads that claim “this is just who I am.” We return to these places again and again, carrying the spices like the women did. The spices symbolize our coping mechanisms, our rehearsed narratives, and our hidden despair. Like the women who come to the tomb, we are not expecting resurrection, but we really don’t know what else to do or where else to go.
Over Lent we have journeyed into the shadows, as a way of helping us reveal what we’ve been carrying: the hidden fears, the unspoken grief, the parts of ourselves we’ve tucked away. Sometimes these shadows become familiar and even comfortable. Why? Because if we step out of the shadows we are taking a risk, we are making ourselves vulnerable. It means letting go of the version of ourselves that was shaped by pain, and instead trusting that something new is possible even if we don’t know what it is.
Isn’t this the point? Of course you don’t look for the living among the dead! If Jesus said he would see us again why don’t we trust that promise? As the women discover, life is not found in the tomb, and more importantly hope is not buried with what was. The hardest part about Easter is that we have to leave the tomb to experience resurrection - to experience transformation. The angels are telling the women that they are looking in the wrong places, and so are we!
As we come to Easter morning, I hope that you will reflect on what you are holding onto, or define yourself by something that no longer has power? God is here today! Every time we choose hope over resignation, every time we step out of hiding, every time we forgive when it would be easier not to, and every time we believe that we are more than our worst moments,we are living the resurrection! I hope that this journey through Lent into Easter has helped you come to an understanding that what once held us becomes something we’ve been released from when we trust in God and follow Jesus. It is time to step out into the light because life has so much to offer. Life is calling us forward, not into what was, but into what is still becoming. So may the God of resurrection meet you in the places you thought were finished. May the stone that felt too heavy to move be gently rolled away. May the light of Easter morning find you - even in the shadows you still carry. May hope rise in you where despair once lived, and may courage awaken where fear has held you still, for you are held in God’s love and in that love God brings life out of death. Blessings be with you all. Rev. Karen