Resurrection

I'm early, I know, since Easter is nearly two weeks away. But yesterday's (March 9) Gospel lesson was the resurrection of Lazarus and I'm still thinking about it.

Resurrection. Spoken of at a funeral service or Easter celebration near you. And almost only then.

Such a weird concept and a big long church word: resurrection. Does this really mean anything in daily life? More importantly, "So what?"

Two weeks ago at Central, we hosted the memorial for Christoph Von Alvensleben, 25-year-old snow-machiner who died in an avalanche in Turnagain Pass. It was possibly one of the saddest memorials I've attended, one of the largest and one of the most moving in terms of stories told and a life celebrated. Life lost young is tragic and unfair. A few people remarked, "Well, at least he died doing something he loved." To this, I want to say, "Well, he still died." This doesn't necessarily make it better; it is still an enormous loss. As the pallbearers moved the casket out of the church and into the hearse, the family followed and gathered at the door. They held each other and wept. The sisters of the man who died sobbed and cried, "Nein, nein," (they were Germans).

I'm thankful the memorial service was in a place of worship, so this grief could be connected to the resurrection. Because for a Christian, "he still died," isn't the end. Grief and resurrection go together for a Christian. Grief without the resurrection feels hopeless, helpless. Resurrection without grief would be a shallow celebration.

So the "so what" of the resurrection is this: God promises to love and hold us in life and in death, words of comfort for those experiencing loss. Where is Christoph? Held securely in the arms of the God who loved him in life. And, yes, someday there will be a great and mysterious resurrection and Christoph will live again.

But resurrection so what part deux is important too. Life is full of endings, transitions, deaths. Even the good transitons murmer soft whispers of loss. So what do we do? Practice resurrection, as says poet/farmer Wendell Barry. We look for where life will begin again, out of the depths of loss. We hope and look for moments of joy in God and others even in our grief. This is practicing resurrection.

As Wendell Barry says, "Be joyful, though you have considered all the facts."