Easter’s story is about transforming our hearts, our lives

Easter arrives and once again, I have flunked Lent.

Maybe you give something up for Lent and maybe you don’t. Most of the time, I get off to a good start but it doesn’t last. I’m not trying to shed huge sinful ways, just challenging my comfort zones, my accommodations to fears and angers and appetites. But change is hard, even when I say, again, “this is the year that I ...” (fill in the blank).

So it’s Easter again and the world is in bloom and the sun is warm and there’s lots of good chocolate in the stores. Distracted by the demands and losses of the pandemic, and “heart-wrenchingly” challenged by the brokenness of our nation, I feel as though there’s been more than enough to deal with. I guess I did Lent after all?

Easter arrives and I’m tired, my heart is broken, my stress level is showing, and Jesus’ empty tomb looks like a good place to hide out from any more tragedy, conflict or sorrow.

I can feel the urge to entomb my heart, to roll a big stone in place to guard against any more pain getting in.

But Easter shows God’s power over sealed tombs.

The original purpose of the stone at the mouth of Jesus’ tomb was to keep intruders out. Sounds good. My heart is tired and really doesn’t want to deal with more problems, more troubles.

But the stone at Jesus’ tomb was no match for the amount of love inside that cave. Love wanted out, to fill the world with the Good News that love is stronger than hatred, stronger than cruelty, stronger than fear, stronger than any form of death of body, mind or spirit.

I love the story of the prophet Jonah, who when trying to escape from God’s call to serve, is swallowed by a very large fish. In the belly of the beast, Jonah might have felt he had truly escaped from God, but in my personal version of the story, a quiet voice says, “Hello, Jonah. Let’s talk about transforming your life-choices.”

Trying to protect a tired, aching, angry heart by sealing it with stone is useless because God’s love has already infiltrated the space and is ready to start the conversation about the transformation of a hardened heart. “Hello Janet, let’s talk!”

Easter arrives with its powerful, persuasive story that resurrection is about transformation of our hearts and therefore our lives. Love has found us and will not let us merely rest from the troubles and labors of this world. Rest prepares us to re-enter the present and deal with what is. Resurrection renews us in heart and spirit to engage what can be, what is possible.

God’s love has burst out of the tomb, breaking down the barrier of death, giving us a great gift that will cost us everything that does not serve God’s love, mercy, justice and truth.

Living into resurrection is a journey of dying to the deadly old ways, the never-solved problems, the endless arguments, the compromises and accommodations and lies that support the status quo.

Resurrection honors our wounds, and some scars remain, but new life demands a renewed heart and a fresh spirit, seeing through God’s eyes the beauty and the struggle and the possibility in each person, including ourselves.

Easter arrives again to remind us that physical death is not the final chapter in our lives. But before we die, it is about how we live, here and now, in this beautiful and broken world.