Empty Tombs

Holy Week seemed to create its own ethos.

We cleaned gross water out of our basement and then washed each others feet.

We fasted on Good Friday and meandered around our neighborhood for four hours remembering the crucifixion and remembering the ways in which our world is broken and full of sorrow. Being hungry and tired only heightened that sensitivity.

Saturday I felt rather lost. In plumbing issues (a basement literally full of filth, but that's another story) and friendship issues and life issues.

And I woke up on Eater, and it wasn't all better. I didn't feel overwhelming peace and joy. And for the first time I was attracted to and even comforted by the disciples mixed reactions to Easter.

Mark 16:8
They went out and fled from the tomb, for trembling and astonishment had gripped them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.

Matthew 28: 16-17
But the eleven disciples proceeded to Galilee, to the mountain which Jesus had designated. When they saw Him, they worshiped Him; but some were doubtful.

Sometimes it's easy to think that if Jesus were here, we would understand, we would have it figured out, our faith would be strong. But the disciples had Him, lost Him, and had Him again and still couldn't get it. Their reactions were worship, yes, but also fear and inaction and doubt.

They didn't understand (John 20:9) asked the wrong questions (John 21:21) and generally failed to grasp what resurrection might mean.

It's not that I don't rejoice in Easter, or that I don't want to. I just find myself in a world that is still awfully broken and not yet brought to wholeness and peace. Sometimes we're told that we should rejoice as if nothing is wrong, and yet I find myself reacting with confusion, fear, inaction, and doubt.

And it's nice to know that I'm not the only one who doesn't always get it.