Today, I slept in a little bit, got ready for church, and walked out the door around 9:15, amazed that it was warm enough to need only a light sweater and anticipating the warm afternoon forecast to us. I wore my "Easter" dress from last year (a great find at Target, if I do say so myself) and my favorite sandals (another great find at Old Navy last spring).
Today, I carpooled to church like I normally do, and we greeted each other with cries of "Happy Easter!" and shared pastel-wrapped candy from someone's Easter basket.
Today, our church met downtown in a larger venue than usual, and celebrated the resurrection in a beautiful space with everyone from both services all together. The little girls were all dressed up, and the number of pastel-colored button-up shirts and ties was astounding. The service started with a traditional/gospel-ish choir piece (we never normally have a choir), the band was big, and adorable small children helped give announcements with one of the pastors.
Today, I ate Easter dinner with a big gathering of extended family, full of traditional family dishes and the same conversations. People napped and talked and drank coffee and tea, and we oohed and aahed over the little girls' dresses and baskets and the baby's outfit and fun laughing noises.
And then, I went to work. Easter came up as a topic of conversation, both amongst ourselves and with customers, and at one point, both of my co-workers mentioned that they don't really celebrate Easter. One of them, remembering that I mentioned I had worked at a church previously, turned to me and said, "Can you explain what Easter is all about? I mean, surely you know."
Oh God. And I meant that literally, as a prayer. I think what I managed to say, very carefully, was something about how Easter is the day that the Christian tradition believes that Jesus was raised from the dead, and so we celebrate it. I also told her that I'm not sure where all the other stuff comes from- the Easter dinner food groups and the bunny and the candy and all that stuff.
The moment passed, and then later, the same person asked me what drew me to religion. I told her that my parents were familiar with church, but I didn't grow up going to church, and then when I was in elementary school I started going with some friends and something about it clicked with me. Even at that young age, I knew it was true. And now, I keep believing because I need hope. She nodded and said something about how religion seems to be a way for everyone to find their individual hope, and we moved on with whatever project we were working on. In that moment, I wish there had been a way for her to peek into my heart and soul and see how desperately I need the hope that only Jesus Christ has to offer. I'm not imagining the trouble I'm in. No vague, unlabeled, unspecified hope is going to cut it. I am so intrinsically screwed up that I need the Creator of the universe to give Himself as the payment for the mess I've created. It's that bad. And as I get to know this group of people at this new store, where the beliefs and life experiences vary so much from my last one, I'm trying to figure out ways to communicate who I am apart from who I am stereotyped to be.
But I am any different from the stereotypes? My day, as described above, looked pretty much like millions of other peoples' days. I bought into the gimmicks, the things that have nothing to do with resurrection, like pretty dresses and big meals and chocolate eggs. When asked, I could barely articulate what I actually believe about today. But if I can get past all the Easter stuff and things, in reality, what I believe about today is kind of radical: resurrection changes everything. And if I can be shaped by this story, by this language of resurrection and kingdom and life and light, maybe I can move past the stereotypes and communicate truth in a way that is honest and compassionate. Thank God for hope.
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