April 23rdEaster Dawn Reflections
It’s early Easter morning and I am standing on a small hill looking out to the east as the gradually brightening sky signals the approach of sunrise. To my right the moon hovers above rooftops, its perfect half already bathed in the sun’s rays, a prophet of the brightness to come.
Sunrise is the signature moment in the Easter story. In all four Gospels the resurrection of Jesus is discovered in the early morning as women arrive at the tomb to find it empty. Marking Easter sunrise with services of worship is a tradition that goes back to the earliest days of the church. In recent years it has become a tradition of mine to walk out to this hill in the early twilight and await the Easter dawn.
As I stand in anticipation of that sunrise moment I reflect on the past week and the wild swings of emotion that mark the passage of Holy Week. The highs and lows play out like a stock market report from recent weeks as investors react to the shifting mind of the king down south, scurrying in response to the power he wields. In contrast, the king Jesus is the Messiah that will surrender himself as shouts of praise turn to derision and condemnation before the weeks is done, and will ultimately be lifted up by a power beyond all human comprehension….
On Palm Sunday I am at Holyrood Mennonite and I smile as the children process in, singing and waving their palm branches. It’s a processional so lively and inspiring that when it comes time for the sermon, the worship leader sends the kids and adults back out to process in again with the morning’s preacher, singing and waving as they parade her up to the pulpit.
Maundy Thursday at First Edmonton is marked by a time of worship around the dinner table, inviting us into remembrance of the Last Supper Jesus served to his disciples. The meal ends with the serving of communion to each other around our table, with the bread broken and cup poured. It is a memorial to the way Jesus pours himself out for the world. As I receive the bread and the cup, I respond with the words “Thanks be to God!”
On Good Friday I attend Edmonton’s inter-Mennonite worship service where stories of the cruelty of Jesus’ crucifixion are interspersed with stories of hardship in our world. We hear of churches destroyed in Ethiopia, and fighting in South Sudan—both places where violence and brokenness are all too real, both places in need of the reconciling power of Jesus Christ. It is a power that echoes from the cross as Jesus says, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” As I scroll the news later that day I see so many stories of division in our own North American society, where rights are being eroded and marginalized groups are being targeted, and see that here, too, we have a deep need for the peace and healing that only Christ can bring.
…As I stand reflecting on the volatility of our times the Easter dawn comes slowly, steadily, unavoidably. I wait as the sky turns brighter moment by moment. I look as the broad orange horizon builds in intensity at the spot where the sun will inevitably appear. I expect its arrival at any moment and yet it seems to tarry, building until finally the first pinprick of the sun crests the horizon. Soon it has grown to a vibrant crest, and a few moments later I avert my eyes from its building intensity. As I look with the rising sun at my back I see around me trees and grass and hills and homes that remain largely in shadow. Yet here and there, at the highpoints and places where the angles are right, the sun is already beginning to touch our world.