In chilly, dark December, we sing with gusto, “Oh we need a little Christmas, right this very minute. Need a little Christmas now!” Maybe this year, we should echo, “We need a little Easter, now!”
With each day’s news bringing another crushing assault on our democracy, and every new headline describing major, cruel policy shifts we never voted on, let’s try to turn our thoughts to Resurrection.
We have a preview in the parable of the prodigal son where the phrase “he got up” or “he has come to life again” recurs four times. The deliberate repetition leads us to ask, “where do we rise up?” At a certain age, simply getting out of bed in the morning is a triumphant act of courage. And if we uplift our attitudes, we learn to think of the day not as “what drudgery must I do?” but “what awesome surprises does this hold? What gifts does God have in store today?”
Surely the tender, tiny leaves emerging on trees sing of new life. As Thomas Merton wrote in When the Trees Say Nothing, “beech leaves are the loveliest things in creation when they are just unfolding.” Other small signals call us to hope in the larger arena: the spark in a substantive conversation, the surprise call or e-mail, the shared understanding that sometimes comes without words. The delayed, reluctant reader sounds out the first word, and the women find the tomb empty. From a group of unruly, distracted middle schoolers, a choir director coaxes beautiful song; Mary hears her name in familiar tones.
A contemporary death-to-life story is told in “Blink,” a touching National Geographic documentary streaming on Disney +. A family in Montreal learns that 3 of their 4 children will gradually go blind. The mother recounts with painfully honesty how she rushed online to research the condition, reading there, “no cure.” With considerable bravery and luck, the parents set out on a world-wide tour to give the children visual memories, images they can store in their mental banks when their vision is gone. A safari in Africa, a trek through the Himalayas in Nepal, rides on camels in Egypt, a zip line through the rain forest in Ecuador—everything on the family bucket list gets checked and experienced.
Even the frustrating parts of the journey are recorded—squabbles, getting stuck on an aerial gondola in Ecuador for 9 hours, fatigue, cold rain and sad, encroaching signs like loss of night vision. But the joy is evident and the resurrection continues in a quieter vein when they return home and learn to navigate with seeing eye dogs.
As Jim Finley says on his podcast, “Turning to the Mystics,” Jesus always approaches people who are caught in something unresolved. He sees beyond the current impasse to what endures: God’s infinite love for God’s child. Post-resurrection, that continues with the disciples walking towards Emmaus. The hallmark of an Easter people is always joy, because as theologian Karl Rahner says, “If they can take it away, it’s not God.”

How beautiful. Kathy! I just read your Easter blog. Thank you. 🩷Sent from my iPhone