After-Easter Thoughts

Mary Magdalene had seen the broken, bloodied body writhe on the cross.

With anguished disbelief she watched him, who had healed her, die.

She had believed in him as she had never believed in anyone before.

She loved him.  Now she had lost him, and, heart-broken, she felt bereft.

All this we understand.

We know something of the soul-slicing sword and the pain of losing whom we loved.

But what happens next leaves us bewildered.

Mary has lingered by the empty tomb, weeping for what is not there.

When she sees two angels.

Angels?!

The tombs we’ve filled with loved ones have not emptied.

We’ve seen no angels on guard at our gravesites.

None has needed to ask us why we wept.

And none of those we lost have called our name.

(We would have heard, for we would know a loved one’s voice.)

There’s one who said much before:

“Do not fear, I have called you by name, you are mine.”

When Mary hears her name called, she knows the voice.

It is the Lord whose dead body she had been looking for.

That cannot be, we say.

When you die, you’re dead:

“Dust you are, and to dust you will return.”

And shake our heads, like Thomas:

“I have to see it to believe it.”

Thomas, who had been ready to die with Jesus,

Was not ready to believe him risen.

As we are not.

But then our incredulity takes a hit.

Jesus shows up; especially for Thomas.

(Especially for us?)

The doubter touches Jesus, looks into Jesus’ eyes,

Hears Jesus say: “Stop doubting and believe.”

Then, with Job, he could’ve said:

“My ears had heard, but now my eyes have seen you.

Therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes.”

Perhaps all that was implied in his confession:

“My Lord and my God!”

Yes, seeing is believing.

It’s the mantra by which we tend to live.

But the words of Jesus make us ponder:

“…blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

The faith of Noah, of Abraham, of Moses?

Those who walked by faith and not by sight?

The faith that “is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see”?

Of being sure that “on the third day he rose again and ascended into heaven”?

Of being certain that where he is, we shall be also?

Is such faith a gift, then, not unlike love?

And when it’s ours, will Easter joy fill our souls too?

Even when we, like his disciples, walk our own via dolorosa to the grave?

Believing that on the other side, the Lord is waiting?

It’s the Easter blessing we have yearned for.

For we would walk with God.