Scripture: Psalm 93
Easter Monday.
Where I grew up, Easter Monday was a thing, a holiday. I heard that it was because some legislators, arguing about Jesus’ “three days in the tomb,” decided that there was no way to get three days out of Friday to Sunday, so they decided that the Resurrection actually took place on Monday. While I’ve never bothered to find out if this really is true, it makes sense: the kind of thing a politician would come up with.
It doesn’t really matter. It’s a great story that children can tell each other (which is where I heard it – from the son of an attorney, no less!) . Do children still have heavy theological discussions like that? We certainly did, on a regular basis. We didn’t have Google, we had the World Book Encyclopedia and Encyclopedia Britannica, but there was nothing that helped me find the truth, and after a bit, I just quit: there wasn’t much possibility after almost 2000 years that the truth would change the Church!
Sundays are always Resurrection days.
This year’s Resurrection Sunday probably was more meaningful to many of us than any before. Lent was a real thing this year, whether we like to observe it or not. I used to work with a guy who said Lent wasn’t in the Bible, so he didn’t mess with it; of course it’s in the Bible, and Shakespeare’s “a rose by any other name would smell as sweet” is applicable here: Jesus’ 40 days in the desert is where Lent comes from, and THAT’S in the Bible! Be that as it may, we’ve just been through a real Lent (where we actually gave up some of our life practice’s, like gathering together), and something shifted on Easter yesterday. Did you feel it?
Many of us did: some of you sent me sweet messages about how meaningful the service; the opportunity to ring our version of church bells in the parking lot – the blowing of our horns incessantly for about 45 minutes – made some us feel free and happy. Today, we’re back at sheltering at home and keeping our physical distance, but there’s a shift in some of us. The laughter and smiles and distant hugs from the safety of our cars did more than just make noise: it hit us, like Jesus walking into the room hit the disciples so long ago. There was an impact that we felt deep inside of us.
I always look for the hope. If our faith means anything to us, it means that we look at the whole picture: Jesus walked that lonesome highway and survived, fasted in the desert for 40 days and didn’t starve, was tempted by the Devil and won, died on the cross and was buried in a tomb and then rose from the dead: we keep these things in front of us, especially that empty cross and tomb, and find our lives mingled with his, and his life mingled in ours, and we know.
Hard times, come again no more!
Prayer: Loving God, thank You. Thank You for everything. May our gratitude live deep within us and all over the place wherever we go, in Jesus’ name, amen.
About jamiebrame
Greetings, fellow earthlings. I'm the retired Program Director at Christmount, the national retreat, camp, and conference center of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), in Black Mountain, NC. From September 2019 through October, 2020, I served Timberlake Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in Lynchburg, VA, as interim minister. After taking more than a year off, First Christian Church (DoC), Wilson, NC, offered me the position of Interim Minister, beginning May 10, 2022.
Originally from Eden, NC, I graduated from John Motley Morehead High School, earned a BA in Religion and Philosophy at Atlantic Christian College (now Barton College), and eked out a Master of Divinity from the Divinity School at Duke University. I served, in various positions, churches (part time and full time) in North Carolina and Georgia, and have lived in Black Mountain, NC, since 1989. I married Renae in 1992 (she refers to these years as "looooooooooong" years.
I've spent the past 50 years or so trying to practice Christian contemplative prayer with some touches of Zen meditation to help the journey along. Married to a wife who is much holier than I am, I am fortunate to learn from her daily about how to do this thing called spirituality. Being an ordained minister doesn't make me holy (but occasionally, as you'll read, a little sanctimonious, so forgive me in advance!); but I hope that I put my education to good use.
I'd love to be considered a spiritual teacher, but I know myself too well to claim that. While I do a bit of teaching, I think the best teaching we do is when we remain silent (the old desert abba said something like, "if you won't learn from my silence, you won't learn from my talking"). But silence shouldn't turn into quietism, and we do have to speak out and act for justice and fairness and equality for all.
I frequently ask myself the question, "Does it matter?" about the major - and minor - issues of the day. What I think matters: love for God, equality, fairness, loving our neighbor, feeding hungry people, housing homeless ones, clothing naked ones, and especially caring for children; basically, caring for those who have some trouble caring for themselves. AND our relationship with God.
What doesn't matter: what you think of me. I'm not very Christ-like. You won't hear me talking about all the things I do for others, or all the things I do for God - I was taught that It's not about me, and using good works to get attention for myself isn't what Christian faith is about - look up "narcissism" on Google. I'm not sure Jesus thinks it matters much that I am like him or not, but I do. The old story from the rabbis is probably apropo: when I am hauled up before God at the end of time, God isn't going to ask me why I wasn't more like someone else: I will be asked why I wasn't more like me. The rabbis tell the story better.
I'm still a work in progress, as Renae will attest to.
Finally, I just hope that something you read here will make you think. Use what you can, ignore the rest. Go read some of the desert saints. Read the classics. Take care of people, never point to yourself, and don't follow me: I'm just hoping to be one more signpost to God.
And as one friend reminded me the week before I left Christmount, "It matters."
Oh, and my favorite color is probably blue, and I love cats, and I love my wife's music. I don't like beets.
Does It Matter 