I’m going to ask you what I think is a very simple question with an obvious answer. But you might surprise me, you have before. So we’ll find out together. You ready?

What do you do when someone opens the door for you? 

Yes, you say thank you and walk through it. Well done. You just might go to heaven!

An Open Door

What if Easter is the opening of the door to your and my future? What if Easter is what keeps “the present from closing in on us, from closing us up,” (Caputo, On Religion, 8) from entombing us?

I wonder if we too often come to this day focused only on the resurrection of Jesus. And why wouldn’t we? He was the one killed on Good Friday. It’s his body that was placed in the tomb. It’s his tomb from which the stone was rolled away. And it’s his tomb the women in today’s gospel (Luke 24:1-12) find empty. But what if that’s only the beginning of the Easter story and not the end?

After all, what good is it to us if the stone is rolled away from his tomb but not ours? What good is it to us if his tomb is empty but we’re still in ours? What good is it to us if he has risen but we have not? What good is it to us if Jesus has a future but we do not?  

Today I want us to claim and participate in our own resurrection as much as we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus. Here’s what I think that means for us:

• It means that life is changed, not ended.
• It means that no ending is ever final. 
• It means that how it is today isn’t necessarily how it will always be. 
• It means that whatever has and has not happened in your life and whatever you have done and left undone does not have the final word on your life.

Alleluia. Christ is risen. The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia. That is the final word on your life. And, it is the first word, the recognition that the stone has been rolled away and you have a future. 

The only question is this: Will you step through the door into your future? Maybe that’s what the two men in today’s gospel are getting at when they ask the women, “Why do you look for the living among the dead?” They’ve take their spices to the tomb to anoint the body of Jesus. But the men tell them, “He is not here, he has risen.”

Let’s not stand here holding our spices to anoint the dead, the past, something that isn’t even here, when our future now stands before us. I wonder what that looks like for you. What is your vision for your future? For Uvalde’s? For America’s?

I am going to ask you a series of questions just like I did on Maundy Thursday. I don’t want you to answer all of them. Just pick one or two that describe or point to the future you want for yourself or another. Or let them prompt you to ask your own and perhaps better question. 

What is the life you want to live? What are the truths, values, and practices you want to guide your life? What needs repairing in your life or community? What qualities do you want in your relationships? 

What kind of world do you want for yourself and those who will come after you? What changes would affirm and support the dignity and well-being of yourself and others? How do you want our town and country to be? How might you be more authentically yourself and live more fully alive? 

Those and a thousand others like them are questions about resurrection. They are the starting point for your and my Easter work. Easter resurrection does not determine our future, it gives us a future. It does not change us, it makes change possible. But we have to do the work of Easter. We have to walk through the door. We have a part to play in our own resurrection.

Eastering

For Jesus resurrection was a three day event. For most of us it takes a bit longer. It’s probably something we are always living into. Maybe we should think of Easter as a verb instead of a noun. I learned that from the poet Gerald Manley Hopkins.

That means Easter is less an event and more a process, a way of being and living. We might call it “eastering.” Isn’t that a great word? Easter is something we believe in, eastering is something we do for the life of the world, one another, and ourselves. It’s at the heart of our baptismal vows.

If you are wondering what that Easter life might look like, I have a visual aid for you. His name is West and he’s eight and a half months old. Look at him. Isn’t he beautiful, precious? 

In a few moments we will promise to support him in his eastering and we will baptize him into an Easter life.

What are your best prayers, hopes, and wishes for his life? What do you want him to know, trust, and believe about himself? What blessings, gifts, and joys do you want him to receive? What are the qualities and values of the America you want for him? What is your hope for his world? What is your biggest dream for his life? 

I don’t know how you answered those questions but I’m betting it’s a pretty amazing future you want for him. So what about for yourself? Can you imagine that for yourself too? For others? 

The First Step

The door is wide open, wide open and waiting for you.

So, tell me, What’s the first step you need to take? What do you need to do, change, or let go of to step into your Easter life?

Alleluia. Christ is risen. 
The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia.

Let’s not leave him standing there all by himself.

____________________
Image Credit: Photo by Peter Herrmann on Unsplash.