The one about…a week ago.

Time is a strange phenomenon. On Easter Sunday afternoon Ani, Zeb and Ez splashed happily in the paddling pool, armed with water squirters, as they tried to dislodge each other from the body boards they were standing on. Summer had arrived, it was only April but it was good. The warm, dry and sunny bank holiday, a relatively rare experience in the UK, came and went so quickly and now the children are back at school, Easter seems a long time ago..

Easter Sunday has always been a significant day in my story; a day of celebration, on a par with Christmas. There are gifts, usually of a chocolate nature, followed by church and a roast dinner, shared with family; a celebration of death defeated and sin overcome. I’m not sure I hold to the theology in quite the same way anymore but I do believe there’s a reason for celebration. Like any marker or reference point an annual celebration is significant and holds meaning for all who associate with it. Celebrating Easter offers a renewed opportunity to be reminded of the rhythm of life, death and resurrection and silence.

Silence, the silence is important because sometimes there aren’t the words and sometimes we need that space, we need the silence, to process what’s going on around us, work out what we think and find a way to respond.

It’s been nearly a week since over 200 people were killed in bomb attacks in Sri Lanka as many of them sat in church, celebrating resurrection.

To announce the news ‘He has risen’, seemed somehow lost in the atrocity that had occurred. Death was not defeated; death was visible, raw and very very real. To celebrate resurrection seemed irrelevant to those who haven’t risen this week and returned to be with those they loved.

So where does that leave the “good news” of Easter, especially after all the eggs are eaten, the bank holiday is over and ‘normality’ returns.

I’ve walked the dog a few times this week pondering the hope of Easter.  I’ve wandered through a church yard, looking at the gravestones, some clearly tended to with flowers while others looked unvisited, maybe forgotten. I’ve seen daffodils that had once flowered now standing withered and the blossom that had brightened the trees now falling. Death is all around us. Death always is. We try to pretend it’s not but it is, we can’t escape it.

Death remains as unknown and mysterious as it always has. We can attempt a more positive spin when we talk of people having had a good life or dying ‘doing what they loved’ but really death can’t be appeased like that, even less so when death seems so unnecessary, wasteful and atrocious.

Many look to religion for answers often finding religion to seemingly be the cause. What should offer life and peace instead divides and condemns. True religion, genuine spirituality, can be found in anyone and maybe it’s in those moments, where the only honest response to death is silence, that we need to look within for a way forward.

There are no easy answers to the evil that took place in Sri Lanka. It is not ok. Yet the unrest, jealousy and ignorance within ourselves is not ok either. Until we begin to find ways within our own sphere of influence to be people who look to always love rather than hate, to always forgive rather than seek revenge, to always pursue peace rather than justification, to always welcome rather than judge, the world will not move forwards. So when we look at the injustice in our world and feel helpless to respond we need to be creative about what we can do.

Resurrection will only mean something if we begin to look for ways to bring hope, new life, new energy and new possibilities to those around us.

Death will always be held within mystery and maybe we need to allow it to be held, until at the right time, in the right ways, we can embrace resurrection. What often looks and feels like the end rarely is, life finds a way. What if there is always resurrection? What if it takes time; what if it can’t be rushed or forced? What if instead it could be welcomed, spoken of and celebrated? What if we become people who choose to celebrate resurrection wherever and whenever we find it and in doing so show the world that the ‘good news’ of Easter is for real, all year round.

The one about…a magical Easter

The days are getting longer and so much warmer. The March winds have subsided, making way for the April showers and now sunshine; Spring is well and truly here. The earth is responding. Blossom is falling, daffodils have all but been and gone, the bluebells are resounding as they carpet floor of the woods, the dawn chorus is echoing and new green shoots are sprouting in every tree and bush; the world around us is coming back to life and it’s magical!

Magic: the power of apparently influencing events by using mysterious or supernatural forces. Magic must be at work out there because there is something mysterious and supernatural about the way nature seemingly dies during autumn and resurrects in the spring! Ok, so if I’d paid more attention in A level biology maybe it wouldn’t seem so mysterious and I’m not sure if nature can be supernatural so maybe magic isn’t the right word but in the same way that a good magician creates awe and wonder, so does nature when we stop, look and listen!

I read a book during lent, written by a magician called Nate Staniforth, his book is called Real Magic. If you can afford it, buy it, if you can’t ask me and you can borrow my copy. It’s awesome!

Nate tells a story of a performance he gave to a hostile audience, inviting the most aggressive looking member, a guy called Marcus, to hold a wallet containing a lottery ticket with pre-chosen numbers printed. He then chooses six unknown people at random, not pre warned, to give him a number between 1 and 50…I guess you see where this going! The numbers given by the audience match the numbers on the ticket in the wallet. This is how he described the moment the brutish guy holding the wallet reacts:

“Get the f*** out of here, man. What the f***?” The audience is watching Marcus ascend to a sort of crazed delirium….I want you to see his face. I want you to see the joy, the open, unaffected joy. It’s the kind of joy that reminds you that what you mistook for dull, uninspired brutishness a moment before was actually just weight-the weight of worry, of pain, of anxiety, of the world-and for a moment it has gone, and the face that shines without it is extraordinary.

The universal truth of this particular story is that we all need, want, maybe even crave those moments where we lose the weight of the world and experience the wonder of it.

What if that’s what Easter offers? What if a story about death and resurrection offers us that moment of, as Nate describes;

“not knowing, a moment of wonderment, of joy, and of innocence. It reminds us that it’s ok not to have all the answers or all the information-that we can move on with our lives anyway. And that we should, because we will never have enough information.”

What if the debate about the facts, the ‘information’ about whether Jesus actually rises from the dead, misses the point as much as the debate about how the magician hid the coin, knew the numbers or seemingly sliced through the body! What if that debate isn’t where it’s at? What if instead Easter invites us deeper into awe and wonder? What if Easter invites us to lose ourselves, our worries, our insecurities, our fears and move, for a while, into the wonder of it all before stepping back into reality, still shaking our head in disbelief but with a new found sense of, what if that’s true? What if resurrection is real, what if there is hope? What if we all were able to live from that place rather than a place of doubt and despair? What if the Jesus story invites us to believe, not in the accuracies of historical events, but in wonder, possibility and a preferred future? What if Jesus invites us all to live with the wonder of resurrection knowing that whatever deaths we face there is always hope? What if Easter opens the doors of possibility to something bigger, inexplicable and seemingly impossible, leaving us all hoping that the resurrection is for real!