Just Different

This has been a very unique Easter for me. A first in many ways. My family came down to visit and stay with me during my brother's spring break. So last Saturday, my mother, brother, and their dog, Abby, picked up my grandmother and Sparky in Bakersfield and headed down to my house. Then my dad flew in on Tuesday night after teaching his class at the seminary. So most of the week we had six people, two dogs, and the occasional 9 month old. Our house was quite full! But about a year ago, God blessed us with a very nice house that accommodates the crowd quite comfortably. My family always earn their keep while I go to work. My brother looked after the dogs all week cleaning up their mess almost every day. My grandmother cleaned my kitchen and polished all my silver. My mother did my laundry. Dad always does odd jobs around the house. And everyone made wonderful food all week. It was like having live in help for the week.

But on Friday, everyone left, it was quiet, and Kevin and I began to prepare our hearts and minds for Good Friday. Our church doesn't have a building, and we are still trying to find unique ways to bring our "body" together. Most small groups met together on Friday night to watch the DVD the Sandals staff had put together. The point was to remember how tragic Jesus death was to those who lived through it. Everything crumbled for the followers. Everything they had put their hope and faith in seemed lost. God gave his son to earth, knowing he would die. We were asked to put ourselves in the shoes of Joseph or Aramathia to try to feel what he may have been feeling.

Throughout the DVD, we were asked to remember what grief was like. Having really only experienced grief once, I remembered my friend Guin. It was like I was reliving that week once again. Getting the phone call from Guin's grandma at work. The shock. The disbelief. I couldn't believe she was really gone. Feeling numb. The anger at Guin. The anger and guilt of not doing more, not being a better friend. Bethany and I even joked that she had gotten caught up in something dangerous and was actually in a witness protection program out in Phoenix. But even with the closed casket, we knew. She was gone. I've said it before; it doesn't get better, just different.

Then I tried to turn those feelings to identify with the disciples. They had spent every day with Christ. And even though he told them he would die and return on the third day, they didn't understand. How stupid they probably felt on Saturday. Thinking they had been fooled. Their faith completely shaken, not even know what to believe or where to turn.

Then there was Sunday. When Christ returns, raised from the dead. When the stone was rolled away, not so Christ could come out, but to show he was not there. The living was not among the dead. But his death was real. And he was then, and is still, alive. I have seen many funerals, and like Guin, they did not come back to life. We try to make funerals a happy time; remembering the good times, and celebrating when our family and friends are with Christ, but funerals are still sad. It is a loss. But today is a true celebration. Christ is alive. He is risen from the dead. It marks the beginning of a new time. Where we can come to God directly. Where a sacrifice has been made on our behalf. We are no longer tied to the old law. We have a new covenant.

Today in church, we all pulled confetti poppers indicating a true celebration. It was cheesy, but it made me smile. It was a good celebration.