Easter Confessions of a Children’s Minster

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On this episode of “Confessions of a Children’s Minster”: 

I’ve struggled with the literal Resurrection of Jesus.

Gulp.

It’s a weird place to be to feel undoubtedly called to teach and preach about Love, and hesitate when I get to the part about Jesus coming back from life. I mean, that’s kinda the whole point, right? 

And then I experienced my own Lent. My own Good Friday. My own Saturday. And I know without a doubt there’s Hope for Sunday.

It was experiencing that cycle, and watching others live into their own Resurrections after death, that taught me it doesn’t matter if the literal Resurrection story is real, because the Easter story is real no matter what. As Glennon Doyle says “It’s just the way of things.” Literal or figurative, Jesus’ life and death and resurrection story is OUR story. Literally and/or figuratively, Jesus lived and died and lived again.

It is April 19th and a full moon and Good Friday and it is snowing in Alaska. Not just the spring flurries that melt as soon as they touch the ground but like, SNOW. Accumulation. My daughter looked out her window this morning and said “NOOO! We already had spring! It’s supposed to be summer! I hate the snow! Also, when is Christmas?” 

We were in the throes of an early spring here in AK. Snow gear was packed away. Snow tires are being taken off. 

But there’s no Sunday without Friday and Saturday and there’s no spring without winter.
The death reminds us that there is life. And maybe we didn’t grieve the death (also maybe climate change is like, a thing, guys.) 

I’ve been told that I’m living into my resurrection story now. I’ve also been told that I’m in my own Lent right now. I’ve been told I’m about to die and be reborn...transformation is coming. All of these things by trusted spiritual mentors and advisors.

I don’t know where the F I am, which tells me I think I’m experiencing Saturday. The waiting. The waiting is the confusing part, right? Is it winter? Is it spring? Or as my daughter asked, where is summer and when the heck is Christmas?

I’ve experienced death and pain and loss and grief and that doesn’t go away on Saturday or even Sunday. I’m still grieving and scared and fearful but oh my God, I can feel Sunday coming. Through all of the snow and death, Spring is coming. Love is coming because Love has been here all along. There’s life in the snow, isn’t there? There’s God in death and there’s God in mourning and there’s God in waiting.

But we have to feel it.

We can’t pack away the snow clothes just yet, Alaskans. We can’t forget Good Friday, Easter people. Sunday is coming, but let us mourn the death and feel the grief. 

Through the tears, let us experience hope. Through the snow, let us wait for spring. 
Through Friday and Saturday, let us know the Resurrection comes for us on Sunday. Ready or not, here Love comes.

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