Seeing Easter in Everyday Life

Thoughts on Holy Week and Resurrection

Everywhere I turn, it seems there’s bad news, cynical news, conspiratorial news.

The things that have filled the internet lately have been dreary, dismal, and heavy. The subject lines flooding my inbox are giving my word of the year, optimism, a run for its money.

I agree that there is much to pay attention to, to commentate on, to advocate for, and mourn. But as I read, I also wonder, where is the beautiful? the kind?

Is there any good to be found?

On Sunday, Evan and I gathered with our small community of faith. We sang hosanna. We waved palms. We reflected on the triumphal entry of a king whose reign was redemptive and cruciform in nature.

On Monday, a beautiful sunrise cast a pink tone on the clouds rising over a row of budding white trees. My counselor friends came over for fellowship. One friend said my home felt like a sanctuary. With us gathered, it did to me, too.

On Tuesday, my workday was inconvenienced by sprinkler tests in our building. But in the midst of this inconvenience, I met a new neighbor and had a good conversation with another.

On Wednesday, I thought about the random goodness of my week. A new walking path discovered. The thoughtfulness of my hair dresser to show me a furniture design in a magazine he knew I’d like. The ability of my family to somehow bring up differing politics and come out laughing on the other side.

Today is Maundy Thursday. Tomorrow we honor Good Friday. Sunday, we celebrate Resurrection.

As I reflect on Holy Week—holding all the good with the bad—I think of how Jesus said of the coming age, “let the tares grow with the wheat.” Or, how Paul wrote, “Our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against rulers, authorities, powers, and spiritual forces of this dark world.”

I am grateful to be able to safely access news and social commentary from a small screen in my home. But just because a small screen takes up (too much) space in my life does not mean its most harrowing messages have to. Online, it may feel like “good Friday” everyday, but what I’m seeing in my everyday, nondigital life, is Easter.

That is not to say there’s not work to do or injustice all around. But what rightly feels hard already is made even harder when we, as Christ followers, forget that Christ has come, Christ has risen, and Christ will come again.

The bad may eclipse the good momentarily, but there is still good to be found.

The good is found in inconveniences that result in human connection. The kind is found in homes, friendships, neighborhoods, and communities. Beauty is found in our real and resurrected, everyday lives.

Evan and I sent our niece and nephews Easter cards with messages about the real reason for the Easter season, along with Easter jokes that brought about silliness and laughter that had nothing everything to do with Resurrection.

Upon receiving the cards, my sister sent a video from her 4-year-old and 2-year-old with valiant attempts at their jokes:

4-year-old: “Knock-knock.”

Sister: “Who’s there?”

4-year-old: “Some bunny.”

Sister: “Some bunny who?”

4-year-old: “Some bunny wishes you…a Merrry Christmas!”

Obviously meant to end in “Happy Easter!” and knowing the joke was on us, he immediately started cackling with his little froggy laugh.

The 2-year-old was up next.

Sister: “What happens when you tell an Easter egg a joke?”

He looked at his mom and proudly smiled with his whole face.

2-year-old: “It cracks!”

Then Evan and I cracked [up], seeing every bit of Easter in the spirits of these little boys.

We FaceTimed the following evening to thank them for their jokes.

Seeing only his mom and brother, I asked the 4-year-old where his dad was. His eyes grew wide and his eyebrows raised as he recounted what he knew.

“He’s at an important meeting! He drove a BIG poster to the meeting for his work! [The poster was] bigger than my table!” He thought about it for a moment. “Well, it’s not bigger than God. But it’s bigger than my table.”

His dad’s work clearly made an impression on him; my nephew’s words made an impression on me.

The “posters” I’ve been seeing lately are bigger than my table, too. My eyes have grown wide and my eyebrows have raised as I have sought to relativize the enormity of what I see going on in the world.

Bigger than my table. Not bigger than God.

May you have a hopeful end to Holy Week. May you see Easter this weekend in all the beautiful faces and familiar places you already know and love. And may you turn your attention to that which is beautiful, good, and kind.