Easter Letter and Holy Week Invitation from the Rector

Sometimes, I wonder.

For all that is recorded in the gospels—descriptions, stories, dialogue—sometimes I wonder about all the stuff that didn’t make it in. Conversations not captured. Details omitted. Interactions deemed unimportant in furthering the movement we call Christianity. And so they weren’t written down.

I wonder, for instance, about the disciples, about how they acted around each other the day after Jesus was arrested, the day after he was killed.

We know from the gospel accounts that the disciples had absented themselves in various ways. Judas disappeared to tell the Roman and Jewish leaders, who had it in for Jesus, where they could find him. Peter lingered at the edge of the High Priest’s courtyard where the first part of the makeshift trial of Jesus was being held; lingered there until he was called out by a servant girl who identified him by his accent as a friend of the accused, and then Peter went away. The other disciples, too, were nowhere to be seen. Not that night, not the day of the crucifixion.

Where did they go? Did they go off by themselves? Or did they gather in groups of two or three or more, taking comfort in the presence of others? Did they talk openly and directly about what had happened—was in the process of happening—or did they look past each other, not wanting to make eye contact lest their own shame for having abandoned their companion and teacher show? Did they compare their own actions (or inactions) against what Judas did, and try to make themselves feel better that at least they hadn’t actively turned Jesus over to the authorities? I wonder.

But for all the disciples did, or didn’t, do during those critical days and nights, still, these were the people chosen by Jesus to carry on his work and words. These are the people who, in 50 days, would be sent forth by God to make disciples of all the nations. These people of fear and cowardice and indecision, weak with human frailty, didn’t earn their positions as messengers of God because of their exemplary qualities, but rather, because of God’s grace. Grace: God’s ability to look past the imperfect, raggedy people we so often present ourselves to be, and instead, see us as we were created. Imago Dei: the Image of God.

I wonder if, after the Risen Jesus came to them, the disciples ever talked about how they didn’t merit this special attention. I wonder if, after the breath and fire of the Holy Spirit swept through that upper room on Pentecost, the disciples ever discussed their unworthiness in being tapped to carry forth Jesus’ message. Or were they just caught up in the joy and power of grace because of their great need of it? I wonder.

The Sufi poet, Rumi, writes:

If God most High has created the heavens, [God] has created them for the purpose of satisfying needs.

Wherever a pain is, that’s where the cure goes; wherever poverty is, that’s where provision goes.

Wherever a difficult question is, that’s where the answer goes. . . .

Don’t seek the water; increase your thirst.

This Easter season, what if we didn’t actively seek out the grace, or the hope, or the resurrection moments God promises, but rather, strived to increase our yearning—our thirst—for them? I wonder.

With faith and confidence,

Elizabeth+

Holy Week: A Story in Five Chapters

My favorite week of the church year is upon us: Holy Week. It’s like the best family reunion, ever! The kind of reunion where the different generations—thousands of years’ worth of generations—come together and share the stories of how We became A Beloved People; how We went from There to Here; how the Hard Times we endured formed us into Us, and weaved together strong threads that Connect us, across time and distance, to people we’ve never met. Please come. Listen to and be part of The Sacred Story of God’s People. View the Holy Week schedule HERE.