Early on the first day of the week...

Yesterday, as the day unfolded, I kept feeling sadder and sadder. It was Saturday, following Good Friday. My downcast mood began as I walked into our woods, trees still leafless, bare branches reaching to the sky. The signs of life shooting from the ground--the first leaves of the day lily bulbs I transplanted last fall and the round-tipped leaves of the surprise lily bulbs my friend gave me--should have brought hope and joy. But these promises of new life only deepened my sadness. They should have been shouting to my spirit, "Spring is just around the corner!" Instead, the thought crept through my mind, "Will this be our last spring here?" (When rumblings of discontent arise in a congregation the foreboding feelings are not far behind. Any honest preacher will tell you it is true.)

From the walk into the woods I went to my flower beds--usually a cathartic exercise to clean out last falls leaves and pull the few young weeds that have so boldly taken their place among my rocks and sprouting bulbs. But working in the flower beds, feeling the bright warm sunshine on my back didn't brighten my countenance.

As my mood became more and more somber I remembered that mother died on the day before Easter, 2002. Was I subconsciously remembering that day? I could not even remember what date her death occurred. I just remember it was the Saturday before Easter--and Easter never falls on the same date two years in succession. So, for me, Mother's death (in my mind) is on the Saturday before Easter regardless of what day Easter falls on. This connection gave me some food for thought. I felt as if I were on the verge of tears more than once, but I knew that was not the whole story.

Then I began to think about the body of Christ--then and now; the women disciples waiting for the Sabbath to pass so they could go to the tomb and finish the burial proceedings with the spices, the men huddled fearful behind locked doors. This is that day, back then, but those imaginings did not make me feel sad because I know the rest of the story. They will find an empty tomb and will begin to understand the power of the Spirit that raises Jesus from the dead. No, those ponderings were the first ray of hope in a downward spiral.

Then I considered the body of Christ in the world today and the overwhelming sadness returned. Has the resurrection power reached the body of Christ, the church, in this day and age? Or do we lie dead in the tomb, without life, without witness to the world because we are unable to love one another? Without witness to the world because we are unable to reach across denominational lines and demonstrate our unity in Christ? Without witness to the world because we fail to hunger and thirst after righteousness?

Today, early on the first day of the week, while it is still dark, I arise and prepare to go to the tomb.... Churches in our community will gather together to celebrate the resurrection of our Lord. I pray that the stone will be removed and the resurrected Lord will be manifest in our worship, in our love for one another, in our cooperative spirit, in the fruit of the Holy Spirit at work in us as a gathering community of faith.