Author: Pastor Aleese Kenitzer

Since Easter Sunday, you likely noticed that our altar looks different than normal. Our Worship and Music Team got creative and had an idea to transform the altar to resemble Christ’s tomb.

As our Worship and Music Team was compiling this the Saturday before Easter, for a time we struggled to get all the pieces to look “right.” Wanting to make the inside of the tomb appear dark, we draped black fabric on the sides and back of the altar. But also wanting to retain a semblance of white paraments for the season of Easter, we searched and searched and searched for what might seem “right.”

Alas, we pulled out the funeral pall. That’s right: on top of our altar is a piece of cloth that’s intended to drape caskets at funerals. At first, it might seem like an odd thing to use. Isn’t Easter supposed to be a season of resurrection and new life? Not a season that reminds us of death? 

Yes. But, without death, there cannot be new life. And, the funeral pall is a sign of new life. At the beginning of many funeral services, we hear these words (referencing Romans 8:4-5):

When we were baptized into Christ Jesus, we were baptized into his death. We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live a new life. For as people united with Christ in a death like his, and as people clothed with Christ, we shall certainly be united with Christ in a resurrection like his.

The pall that we place on caskets is physical act of draping our loved ones in their baptismal garments. It is not on our own merit that we receive eternal and abundant life. But clothed in Christ, God’s life becomes our life. 

So though it seems odd, to drape our altar with a funeral pall is actually quite appropriate. In the Eucharist, we believe that Jesus Christ – as our crucified and risen Lord – is present to us. And through his death and resurrection, the sacrament we receive offers us grace, hope, healing, forgiveness, and life everlasting. 

So next time you’re in worship, take a moment to reflect on our altar for the season of Easter. Reflect on how you have been united with Christ through his death and resurrection and how you have been clothed with Christ in your baptism. And as you receive the elements of communion, give thanks that God’s promises to you are not merely words…but a lived reality as we go forth forgiven, healed, and filled with life. 

If I told you that during the season of Easter you have permission to read someone else’s mail, you might think I’m nuts. That’s just not something we do! Mail that’s addressed to a certain person is for their eyes only, right?

Well, 99.9% of the time, I’d agree with you. However, during the season of Easter, we have the opportunity to read mail that was first addressed to early believers after Christ’s death and resurrection. 

Throughout the coming weeks, we’ll be hearing from the book of Acts and the letter of 1 Peter. The book of Acts tells the story of the early church as the disciples and early believers heard the news of Christ’s resurrection and began witnessing to others. And, the letter of 1 Peter explores what it means to live as God’s people in light of what Christ has done for us. This letter was originally intended for a group of churches a few decades after Christ’s resurrection. But now, as we read from this letter in worship, we have the opportunity to “read that church’s mail” as we continue our journey of seeking. 

So this Easter, as we return to hearing four readings in worship  – Acts, Psalms, 1 Peter, and a Gospel reading – know that we are retaining each of these readings intentionally. Though we restricted the readings we heard during the season of Lent in order to focus on a specific theme, our hope in the season of Easter is to immerse ourselves in stories of the early believers who were also on a journey of seeking. If we were to hear from Acts one week in worship, and then 1 Peter the next, the story we’d hear would be inconsistent – almost like reading the first part of one letter you receive in the mail, but then picking up the next piece of mail and continuing on reading without an awareness that you’ve gone onto a totally different narrative. 

So as you gather for worship this season, pay attention to what you’re hearing. Place yourself in the stories, and consider how the story of those early believers matches your own as you strive to live as a follower of Jesus. And then, go and live out these stories that we hear as we become Christ’s living stones, witnessing to all that God has done. 

Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

On Sunday we exclaimed with jubilation that our Lord has conquered death, and through Christ’s death and resurrection Christ’s life is now our life. 

But…now what? Where do we go from this Easter Sunday?

It’s a good question, and likely a question that Mary, and the disciples who came to the tomb, had as well. According to our Easter Gospel, after Simon Peter and the other disciple looked inside the empty tomb, they returned to their homes. But Mary remained at the tomb. As she wept, first two angels appeared to her and then Jesus himself, summoning her by name – “Mary!” After recognizing her Lord, Mary ran from the tomb, announcing to the disciples: “I have seen the Lord!”

In sum, in the Gospel of John, we see three reactions to Christ’s resurrection:

1. the disciples return to their homes…returning to familiarity and what they know;
2. Mary remains at the tomb…allowing herself to remain in what is unfamiliar, and allowing herself to remain in the un-comfortability of grief;
3. and later, Mary runs from the tomb, witnessing to the truth of Jesus Christ. 

So now, as people who’ve heard the story of Christ’s death and resurrection, what is our reaction?

1. Are we tempted to return to the familiarity of our lives? Returning to “normal” after a holiday weekend? Almost as if nothing happened? 
2. Or, has something in the story of Jesus’ resurrection touched us in a way that we just can’t continue on our journey of seeking in the same way…prompting us to seek Jesus for ourselves? Even if it means being open to the un-comfortability of transformation?
3. Or, having heard the good news of Jesus Christ for our lives and our world, are we running from the tomb, sharing the truth of God’s grace in our words and in our deeds? 

Do you find yourself reacting to the news of Christ’s resurrection in any of these ways? Or, perhaps in some other way? 

This week, ponder your response and offer your response to Jesus in prayer. And then, as we enter into the season of Easter, continue the journey of seeking with us as we live into the life that our Lord Jesus has offered to each and every one of us.  

Each year, we remember the story of our Lord’s death and resurrection: the only story that satisfies whatever we find ourselves seeking. But why do we experience Holy Week every year? And why are we encouraged to observe each day of Holy Week?

Think of it this way: Holy Week is a song that we get to sing only once a year. We anticipate it. We relearn familiar parts. And from year to year, we may discover new harmonies to add. Though it is the same song, each time we approach this story, we find a new layer, a new dimension, a new way in which we are touched by God’s grace. 

And in this song, there are four distinct stanzas. Each are important, and each add their own layer of meaning and purpose. Without the first stanza, the second stanza wouldn’t make sense. And without the second stanza, the third stanza wouldn’t make sense. The point being: without each unique stanza of the song, it would be as if we would be missing a key part of the song….a key part of the story. 

So this week, though it may seem odd to devote so much time to worship, I encourage you to dedicate yourself to worship on Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday. Come and sing this song with us that we sing only once a year, and come discover a new layer or harmony as you once again experience the abundance of God’s grace. 

Before the snow hit this past weekend, I noticed a tiny crocus flower sticking its head through a pile of dead leaves remaining from last fall. Leaning down, this simple sign of spring – of new life coming through the dead and decaying matter from last year – made me smile. It gave me hope that, alas, spring would come…soon. 

This past Sunday in worship, it’s as if we were given a tiny crocus flower sticking its head through the barrenness of Lent. In our Scripture readings, we heard two stories foreshadowing the coming life of Easter. In our Old Testament reading, Ezekiel prophesy to the valley of dry bones, and suddenly the bones were connected together, with sinews covering them. And with the breath of the Spirit, the bones came to life, walking on their own two feet. And in our Gospel reading, Jesus calls Lazarus to come forth from his tomb. Though still bound by strips of cloth, Lazarus experiences the resurrection that Jesus himself will experience. 

Both of these readings stare death in the face. And at the same time, both of these readings offer the hope, and the promise, of new life. 

So before launching into Holy Week next Sunday, take this last full week of Lent to take stock of what’s around you: where do you notice signs of death, and where do you experience “death”? And, where do you notice signs of resurrection, and where are you experiencing “resurrection”?

Much as we’d like to only focus on resurrection, death and resurrection go hand-in-hand. So challenge yourself to embrace both this week, as we hold onto the hope that indeed, Easter (and spring!) are coming soon. 

This past Sunday we heard the story of the healing of a man born blind. What awesome news! Or, one would think. But as we found out in our Gospel passage, after receiving his newfound sight, this man’s testimony was dismissed by everyone around him, leading him to be driven out of community.

Each time I read this story in preparation for Sunday, I empathized more and more with this man. Putting myself in his shoes, I recognized the true gift that Jesus had offered him. But I also recognized the disdain that this man received simply from the assumptions, judgments, and long-held beliefs that the Pharisees, the disciples, and his neighbors held so dearly. 

I’d like to say that I’m better than those people who ostracized this man. But I also know my sin. In the words of Peggy Hahn, “We can be so fast to resist someone who doesn’t match our own worldview or who questions our own formation. We all know that feeling of ‘don’t rock the boat’, or ‘move the cheese’, or whatever analogy you prefer.” (click here to read Peggy’s full blog).

Like the characters in our Gospel story, we may have (seemingly) valid reasons for our resistance to a new idea, a new perspective, or a new experience of God. But the longer we uphold our assumptions and long-held beliefs as something that cannot – in any way shape or form – be changed, the longer we inhibit the healing that God desires to give to us, to our world, to our church, and to our neighbors. 

So this week, as we continue to dwell in this passage, consider what assumptions you carry. Where did those assumptions originate? Do any of those assumptions inhibit you, or your neighbor, from life? And if you’ve recognized that some assumptions were misguided, what caused you to change your mind?