An Easter Poem
Today we celebrate Jesus’ physical resurrection from the dead–but more than that. We celebrate all that He obtained for us through His death. We could not obtain the good of new and everlasting life without death, as there is no Easter without Good Friday (and that is why we call the day of Jesus’ crucifixion “Good”). But often, we struggle to let the old things pass away that the new may live. That is the hardest part–not clinging to what was or what we hoped would be. If we cling to the old, we cannot have the new. All things, to grow and ascend, must die in some respect that something greater might be raised up from within.
“Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” John 12:24, ESV
And so, I’d like to share a reflection from Ronald Rolheiser’s The Holy Longing:
“On Easter Sunday morning, Mary Magdala meets the resurrected Jesus. Initially she does not know who he is and she supposes him to be the gardener, but immediately upon recognizing him, she tries to throw her arms around him. Jesus, for his part, tells her: “Mary, do not cling to me!” What lies behind Jesus’ reluctance to let Mary touch him? Mary Magdala herself, had we ever found her gospel, would, I suspect, explain it this way:
I never suspected
and to be so painful
to leave me weeping
to have met you, alive and smiling, outside an
not because I’ve lost you
but because I’ve lost you in how I had you–
in understandable, touchable, clingable
not as fully Lord, but as graspably human.
I want to cling, despite your protest
cling to your body
cling to your, and my, clingable humanity
cling to what we had, our past.
But I know that…if I cling
you cannot ascend and
I will be left clinging to your former self
…unable to receive your present spirit.”
Have a blessed Easter. Christ suffered, died, and rose again that you might have hope.