I hope that if you consider yourself to be a Christian, the recollections and events of the past few days have brought silence and contemplation in to your life. I hope that you have pondered what it means for someone to actually die for you. I hope that renders you quiet and serene. I hope it causes you to evaluate and question yourself in the grand scheme of this world and possibly change some things.
On this symbolic day, oh so many years ago, women walked to a tomb with broken hearts. Their hopes were dashed. Their understanding of everything was destroyed. They were devastated. This person, that I believe is the Messiah, showed himself to them (or possibly her) first. Not to his bro's, or the hot shots that killed him. He showed himself to broken hearted women. In a society that seems hell bent on destroying the value of women, I find this move astounding. I find this action to be powerful. Women are who He went to first, before He went to the Father (John 20). Maybe this is God's way of saying Hey females, I see you... You are not forsaken or worthless...
The greatest challenge for me is what believing demands, what it requires. Jesus said it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven (Matt 19.24). I am that rich man. It's bizarre to acknowledge that in a society which is constantly seeking out more, and evaluating what is lacking, but it's the truth. In this big blue planet, I'm one of the rich guys... So, it's easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for me to get in to heaven. Say what!?!?!?! You mean it's not just popping over to church and participating in the Eucharist? You mean it's not reading Bible verses and praying prayers and going on with everything like usual? No, America. It's not. And that's where I grieve. Because the reality is, I like stuff. I'm addicted to this world. I'm not so excited about the ideas and realities that Jesus laid out for me to follow, if I'm honest.
Easter makes me stand still and question. Easter makes me realize that I have choices to make. It's all or nothing, to be honest. I don't get to be comfortable and go to heaven. I either have to be all in, recklessly abandoned, or just give it up. Oh how hard it is to love Jesus more than the things of this world. Back to that old camel through the eye of a needle...
I find it exceedingly difficult to battle those addictions where I am living now. I hunger for the homeless of EP. I hunger for the needs of people bombarding my face at every opportunity. Here I feel to sheltered, too secluded and it is feeding the lust of my soul for creature comforts. Don't get me wrong, America, the broken are here. The hungry are here. They seem to be hidden away and not pounding my eyes at every intersection. My sinful heart brushes their existence to the side and gives me the space to believe my donations to a shelter make me "good". Bullshit. Jesus said sell everything, give everything away. Not just my cast-offs. Give until it hurts. Care more about Him than stuff, or money, or power, or status.
Easter makes me ask am I really a Christian? Am I a fraud? How do I love Him more than this world? What does that look like in my every day?
