Hi everyone,
By the time you read this, I hope to be in possession of a new (to me) car. While I was full of nostalgia when we got rid of our minivan, this time around, I could not be happier to be getting rid of our SUV. It has been the vehicular equivalent of The Money Pit house, plus no one felt very excited it about it, ever. Be gone, SUV. You will not be missed.
The Part Where There’s an Essay:
Like you, last Sunday we celebrated the resurrection of Jesus Christ. On the same day, my father laid eyes on my mother’s headstone for the first time. He and the dog (June) went to the cemetery after church, and the gravestone had been placed since his last visit.
This small convergence of events solidified for me the craziness of the things we celebrate on Easter Sunday — not only on Easter Sunday, but every Sunday, if we are Christians worth our salt.
We believe that Jesus Christ’s heart ceased beating, and it happened with such a speed that Pilate was surprised to hear he was already dead1. We believe that his body became cold, because he was dead. Because of the kindness of a man named Joseph, who bore the same name as Jesus’ earthly father, Jesus was hastily laid to rest before the Sabbath began2. Saturday came and went slowly; it was quiet and sad.
We believe that on the first day of the week, that same grave was empty when the women arrived to tend the body3. Leaving his graveclothes behind him neatly folded4, Jesus, I think, took in the morning in the garden, much as I like to do. The Bible tells us that Mary took him to be the gardener at first5. What a lovely thought — she took him for a person who spent his life tending, weeding, cultivating, and harvesting.
He was alive. That was the material point. And also — even more people were alive6. Their families received them back again with joy. Imagine certain disciples receiving back a family member, catching Mary or Martha’s eye, because they knew what it was like.
Of course with a significant loss so close, death is at the forefront of my mind recently. But this is why I am one of those people who shun the “It’s Friday…but Sunday’s coming” casual nature of some celebrations. In a society that so neatly cloisters suffering and death in our food supply, in our handling of the sick and the elderly, and in our everyday conversation, it is easy to understand how we want to skip the sad part. But we shoudnt’t.
We have to sit in Friday and Saturday to actually grasp the significance of Sunday.
We have to understand that his was a real body, like ours, as John Updike reminded us last week.
We have to see the death to recognize the death of death.
For the Anglophiles
Remember that part in Pride and Prejudice when Lydia remarks that she gets to walk in a different spot in line now that she’s married? The etiquette of the Royals walking in a group always fascinates me. On Easter Sunday, we saw William and Kate leading the way because the Queen, Charles, and Camilla weren’t there. William is the next-highest-ranking person, so he was in front:
Don’t forget: his children also outrank everyone behind them. Inheritance is funny, isn’t it?
Reads & Listens of the Week
In my experience, The Screwtape Letters is the most popular of Lewis’ books among a wide range of Christians. Here’s a nice little podcast on the history and influence of Screwtape.
The cringiest episode of The Office is “Scott’s Tots,” and it isn’t even close. The Office Ladies talked it over this week, including an interview with writer BJ Novak.
Last week I finished Amor Towles’ first novel, Rules of Civility. I loved A Gentleman in Moscow, which is about an older man under house arrest in Russia in the 1920s. Rules of Civility is about a young woman in her 20s in New York City in the late 1930s. Both novels have an amazing sense of place and character, which given their differences make me understand Amor Towles to be some kind of ninja. I’m hoping to get into his most recent work, The Lincoln Highway, as soon as possible.
In a very real sense not one of us is qualified, but it seems that God continually chooses the most unqualified to do his work, to bear his glory. - Madeleine L’Engle, Walking on Water
Mark 15:44
Matthew 27:57-60
Mark 16:1-4
John 20:6-7
John 20:15
Matthew 27:52-53