THE REAL RESURRECTION

Most of us have come to believe that “resurrection” as something that happens to us after we die...if we're good or lucky!

Literally.

Like God resurrected Jesus.

Jesus, however, suggested something very different—and much bolder: that resurrection happens first in us and then through us just as it happened in him and then through him—and not at his death—but long before, at his baptism.

All the healings, all the miracles, all the parables, all the beatitudes, all the moments of deep insight and soaring enlightenment he brought to people like Nicodemus, the rich young ruler and Mary’s sister Martha and even to the occasional religious or political authority who was receptive to his message, portray a far broader, richer and, at the same time, more immediate—even urgent—definition of resurrection as something life-giving here and now.

Jesus understood resurrection not just as God's response to one's final moment of death but as a way of living one's life…as something in which we actively participate and so help bring into being—into reality in our own lives, into the lives of those around us and ultimately, into the life of the world.

Yes, resurrected life is happening to us moment by moment, breath by breath, heartbeat by heartbeat, but isn’t actually complete or fulfilled until it happens through us as it did in and through Jesus.

The most relevant Easter question is not, “Was Jesus literally resurrected from death?” but rather, “Am I open to being—and seeing—and participating in God’s on-going resurrection just as Jesus was?” After all, this is what has the power to make all things new in and through us.

Any lesser understanding of Jesus’ resurrection is far too small for God…or you...or me.

“See, I am making all things new!” (Rev. 21:5 NRSV)

THE HEART OF HOLY WEEK

 What makes Holy Week holy?

Jesus’ seven last words, spoken just before his death on a cross, offer us a concise summary of what he believed (and practiced). In short, it's what makes Holy Week holy. Here’s what he said accompanied by one interpretation of each "last word."

“Father, forgive them for they know not what they are doing.” (Lk 23:34)
Let’s practice forgiveness as one of the personal hallmarks of our way of being in the world. The world (and we) will be better for it.

“I thirst.” (Jn 19:28) 
Let’s practice recognizing we are humans with physical bodies, which have real needs that, if and when addressed, will teach us how to live healthy, transformative lives.

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mt 27:46)
Let’s commit ourselves to practicing deep honesty—even when it comes to acknowledging our doubts about God.

“Today you shall be with me in paradise.” (Lk 23:43)
Let’s practice speaking genuine words of hope to others, especially when they are in crisis, feeling fearful or deeply troubled.

“Woman, behold your son. Son, behold your mother.” (Jn 19:26-27) 
Let’s practice the kind of compassion that is more than an emotion—a compassion that reveals itself in proactively identifying and addressing the needs of those around us.

“It is finished.” (Jn 19:30) 
Let’s practice affirming and celebrating that our lives include a spiritual dimension—and that each (and every) person is integral to the much larger picture of God’s love for all of creation.

“Into your hands I commend my spirit.” (Lk 23:46) 
Let’s practice courageously entrusting our whole lives—past, present, future—to God’s grace-grounded love...and do so beginning with this very moment.

The seven last words of Christ are not just at the heart of Holy Week. They reveal the heart of Jesus Christ. After all, he is the heart of Holy Week. Practicing his words throughout our lives is what makes this—and every other week—holy.

METAPHORICALLY SPEAKING

“Language is a cracked kettle on which we beat out tunes for bears to dance to, while all the time we long to move the stars to pity.”  Gustave Flaubert (French Novelist, born 1821)

All language is metaphor.

Though some are more obvious than others, every single word in the previous quote is a metaphor—that is, a symbol or representation—which, when combined with the metaphors surrounding it, creates a picture in our minds.

This is precisely Flaubert's point. Language can create lovely pictures by combining words, but it is also limited by and to those words…which is why the more complex our thoughts, feelings and experiences become, the more words (read: metaphors) we need to describe them.

Jesus knew this.

He used this knowledge not only to help people understand the meaning of his life-transforming message. He used it to describe himself broadly enough so that people could come to know him--referring to himself as “the way, the truth, the life” (John 14: 6), the “light of the world” (John 8:12), the “good shepherd” (John 10:14)--to name just a few of his many self-describing metaphors.

What about the word “God?”

Is "God" the only metaphor we can use to describe something as rich and varied, as simple and complex, as personal and universal—and as deeply experiential—as what we’re attempting to communicate when we use the term?  Or is it just one drop in the ocean?

"If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples; and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free." (John 8:31-32 NRSV)