My early memories of Easter revolved around Easter Sunday only. Sometimes there was a new dress, hat and shoes to sport on Easter morning. We usually attended the dreaded cantata if my mom happened to be in the choir. We always found our way to the Easter egg hunt at my grandfather’s church. He was one of the members of the church who would hide the eggs. I was very young but I remember holding his hand as we walked around during the egg hunt and he would kick the eggs out into the open for me to find. Yes, my grandfather and I had a scam going on and we made a great team. I didn’t find the egg with the big money prize. Grandfather was consumed with the faith that he found late in life and so he had to draw the line somewhere.I didn’t grow up with the practice of Lent. It has been in the past few years that I have come to understand the spiritual significance of Mardi Gras (who would with the emphasis on parades and beads), the ashes on the forehead, the stations of the cross or Maundy Thursday services. These traditions and more were new to me and rich in meaning because I didn’t have years of practice that could have possibly desensitized me to these traditions. My contemplative nature felt perfectly comfortable with the reflection and confession focus of Lent. I helped others experience the darkness leading up to Easter in the different ways that I prepared the altar/stage area for Easter services. I remember winding branches filled with thorns to make a crown of thorns that would hang on the cross. I wept as I made the crown wondering what it was like for the person who had actually made the crown of thorns for Christ. What was their experience? Did they ever come to the full realization of what they had taken part in? Did that person ever experience the message of grace?
Even with the depth that experiencing Lent carried me to it still didn’t take many years before I began to not look forward to it. It was in theology class that I began to understand why. My professor, Ty Inbody, tried to keep his own views to himself but when pushed to share his own theology he did it in two words: death and resurrection. I understood then why 40 days of Lent were too much for me because the focus was significantly on death. The joy and celebration of the resurrection was given one day and then Easter was gone in a moment.
I want and I need 40 days post Easter filled with resurrection stories. I want to think about how my time with my grandfather will be resurrected one day. I want to remember how my grandfather was consumed with his faith and how my grandmother had to keep an eye on him or he would give away everything they owned. I want to figure out how to give eggs filled with prize money to the children who need it. I want to know that a crown of thorns can be a catalyst for transformation.
I want to hear all the ways that death is not the end – but the beginning.
