I hear the whispers breaking through jumbled sleep, inviting me to come worship before the littles wake and life interrupts and I forget. So early morning finds me thinking of this day and the hope that springs forth from it. And the darkness that precedes it, as darkness always does. And it has me thinking that the story would be much different if things ended on Friday, but it doesn’t because where would we be then? A saviour lost and hope shriveled to tiny nuggets we’d carry around in our pockets but not really dare to take out. But Easter is a life ring we throw to a drowning world; that the story isn’t finished. Death doesn’t win. Easter means that there is hope bigger than big and a risen savior who activates it by coming back, death and hopelessness and failed marriages and fear and selfishness and addiction all under his foot and in the abyss he stands over. And though some days feel like evil is winning, like it is running unchecked all over our lives and in our hearts and through the front doors right into our family room where it throws it’s muddy feet up on the coffee table, asks for a mountain dew and settles in for the handbilly hand fishing marathon, evil has no upper hand. That belongs to the Jesus of Easter, who spent three interminable days separated from the Father and then came back. For you. For me. For the sole purpose of kicking evil to the curb so that one day all of creation will once again bow down and worship as it did long ago.
And so I find myself cup overflowing with thanks for this Sunday Jesus. This stone rolled back looking for his beloved Mary in the garden Jesus so he could show her that Easter always comes after Friday. And it has me thinking about the Fridays I’ve had in my life, those dark days when hope seemed lost and me, soul weary and numb, and how that never sticks because of Easter. Thank God for Easter. No, seriously, thank God for Easter. And I’m wondering what Fridays you are mired in and if you know about Sunday, when Jesus rose above that and put it under his feet so that you can too. Put evil under your feet. Do it every time you fall to your knees and call upon the name of Jesus, saviour of Easter, who responds by whispering to your heart to come and rest in him and let him show you that there are always Fridays, but there is always Sunday too. And some day Jesus will come again, and then Friday will be abolished and there will be a new earth and it will always be Sunday. So I’m clinging to the life ring of Easter with hands puckered from being in the water so long and I’m gathering my family around it to hang on too because this Jesus, he’s the real deal. What are you clinging to?
This is me being real. Thankful for Sunday. Thankful for Friday that makes Sunday all the more sweet. Asking Abba to come. Come Lord Jesus, come.