Opening to Love

We had a socially distanced picnic yesterday. Minus one set of grown children, the others were able to come and sit at least six feet away with fans blowing away the mosquitoes or any possible viruses. As we gathered the day before Easter Sunday, I thought about the meaning of this day for me and realized that our little gathering was even more special this year. I thought about how for Jesus’ friends their Saturday was filled with grief and utter sadness. They had seen their beloved teacher and friend executed by a brutal empire intent on squashing any kind of devotion outside of the emperor. He was someone who had touched their hearts in ways that they could not really explain. There was no inkling that the following day their lives would become even more confusing and upended. 

I thought about our situation right now as human beings on this planet and like the Easter story before Easter, it doesn’t seem like we have a lot to look forward to. Our health is in peril, our economy is in tatters, and the fabric of our political and cultural life is frayed. False hope would have us believe that we will be through this quickly and come out stronger without doing some major inner and outer work. False hope will have us distract ourselves with the latest Netflix series or Instagram challenge. But as the Easter story suggests, things don’t turn out the way we often think they will and sometimes we are surprised by possibilities we could not have ever imagined. 

Right now feels like Saturday, though. Right now feels quite dark. Right now feels like we will drown in our sorrow, anger, grief, and frustration.  

But there is Easter. I don’t say this as a Christian believer. I say this as a human being who acknowledges that we live in a world of surprise, goodness, possibility, and creativity. Part of what I know I need to do is to roll the stone away from my heart-mind and allow the light of day and light of life to continue to shine the path forward. I acknowledge that I don’t have the wherewithal to roll that stone on most or any days, but I know love can move more than mere boulders. And love is resurrection and new life. It never grows old. It never dies. 

How about you? How are you doing? What stories are you living out of  that are serving you at this time? As Barry Lopez writes, “Sometimes we need a story more than food to stay alive.” Let’s keep feeding each other. 

Happy Passover and Happy Easter.