Easter Sunday

We're welcome to meet with God anytime and anywhere, but I'll admit I have favorite times and places. There's just something sunrises and sunsets that paint a bigger picture of the face of the Lord for me; and there's something about bodies of water that amplify who it is that He claims to be (and is). Now I suppose this is sort of beside the point, but it's a good jumping off point to share what it is that my heart was opened to this morning as the sun rose.

I began to read the story of the Resurrection standing on the roof of my dorm: "Early on a Sunday morning, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and found that the stone had been rolled away from the entrance..." (John 20:1). I honestly don't know how many times I've read this passage; but what's more is that I honestly don't know how many times I've read this passage and written it off as mere history. (And I have a very hard time connecting with history). Today however, a power beyond my understanding resonated in those words. I tried to imagine how the women at the tomb must have felt. I meditated on the what Thomas must have been thinking when Jesus said "Put your finger here, and look at my hands. Put your hand into the wound in my side. Don't be faithless any longer. Believe!" (John 20:27). Whoa, right? Walking through this story with new eyes, I was almost embarrassed or angry that I've never seen the true power and Glory woven throughout the event of this Holiday.

Hallmark can seem to be quite the hoax in this way. Alright, so maybe it's not completely their fault... but somewhere along the lines we got side-tracked. We hunt and color eggs, we dream of an over-sized rabbit bringing us candy, and we eat a meal on a pastel covered table. If we're not careful, it's all to easy to lose sight of the fact that in the midst of all this is the greatest gift we could ever be given. It's not one that's tied neatly with a bow, but one that has been laced with pain and suffering; a graphic story of the way our Creator paid the way for us, conquering sin, death, and the grave. The resurrection is a story of undeserved mercy, unconditional grace, undying love, and things I've yet to even see or understand. And what's more, is that same power that raised Christ from the dead, now lives in me (just as Romans 6:4 writes). In this way, I should be able to hold my head up in confident hope, stride in unwavering obedience, and unconditionally live in a posture of worship. (I clearly have much to learn and much to let God transform in me).

I love the way Paul gives it to us straight in Romans 14 when he writes "For we don't live for ourselves or die for ourselves. If we live, it's to honor the Lord. And if we die, it's to honor the Lord. So whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord. Christ died and rose again for this very purpose - to be Lord both of the living and the dead" (vs 7-9). These are the truths I want to live out. It seems to be the least I can do in response to a story like that of Easter. As I learn to pray for God's Kingdom to come in my heart, life, and world; I'll do it claiming the Christ-raising power as my own.

There's a radical glory and an unsurpassed freedom we're invited to experience; and accepting the story of Easter seems to be the beginning and end of it all. We stand clean before the Father with Jesus as our Advocate, now and forever. We're being transformed as we learn to be living sacrifices. We are granted a salvation that guarantees us eternal life in the presence of the King of Kings and Creator of all; the One True God. This unarguable and undeserved story is one of the holiness of the Lord I serve; it's my prayer that I might be continually transformed into that same image of glory.