Sunday, March 23, 2008

Dearest God,

The gift of Easter was experiencing it from the side, from the back, from below, from a distance. Always before I have seen it straight on. But this year your holy day was revealed in new ways.

At 4:30 a.m. I opened the front door to listen for the birds singing the Easter song. But the birds were not singing. Too early I said to myself. I took my shower, dressed, finished my message and then stepped back outside. Still nothing.

I drove in the darkness, such a glorious thing to do on Easter morning. Picking up a friend for service we spoke briefly of Easter as I rehearsed my morning message.

At church there was no birdsong. Second year in a row. What's happening? I thought. "The birds won't sing until you do." I heard you say.

The sunrise service began in darkness, lighted only by various white votive candles. Early morning pilgrims gathered to be the first to hear the song, to see the empty tomb, to hear the story, to experience the reality of resurrection.

In the distance I could barely see the shape of three crosses. Too dark. In the quiet we listened to the readings from Genesis to Luke. The golden thread of Easter revealed from the first day of earth. And then I noticed the crosses being revealed, one standing out from the others. They were empty. The Easter flowers below were a stark contrast to the dark brown wood of the cross. A transformation was taking place.

And then Nick read the resurrection story. The tomb was empty. Jesus alive spoke to Mary Magdalene. It was then the birds began to sing. My friend and I heard them at the same time. First one bird, then more. The perfect moment.

I listened for the human song. The three sang out their praise. What a glorious sound. More so because they have been on a desert journey discerning their way, listening for your voice, anticipating your direction. Three people transformed in six weeks. Ready to lead the Easter pilgrim parade.

The service over, the lights were turned on, revealing the colorful flowers at the base of the crosses. The handbell ringers took their places, chatting away their Easter greetings. New life was taking place in the sanctuary as peoples were readying to make their Easter offerings of love and devotion. I knelt at the cross, looking up. From beneath I worked on the flowers, adding more. I'd bought two bouquets, my love offering to you. I couldn't wait to place my flowers in the chicken wire surrounding the middle cross.

I went upstairs to the upper room joining in the celebration of families having Easter breakfast together. Families adding one more, two more. Reconfiguring family on Easter morning. How glorious.

I put on my white robe and stole of many colors. The people were gathering, happy faces. I joined them in the narthex. The handbell ringers began playing their random bells on their journey to the cross and then began to play their own Easter song. I sat in the front pew. Turning I saw the hands and bells from the side, all working in concert together. What a beautiful display of hands making their offering to you.

And then I was distracted by yet another family carrying their flowers, walking up the steps to the cross. From the back I saw a father lift his child to put his flower near the top of the cross. What symbolism! What beauty!

And then the organ began to sing its own song. Quiet for weeks, now it added its own melodious sound and we began to sing, "Christ is risen! Shout Hosanna! Celebrate this day of days. Christ is risen! Hush in wonder; all creation is amazed. In the desert all surrounding, see a spreading tree has grown..." Brian Wren's words were perfect. Our desert journey had shown us the spreading tree, new life bursting all around, inside us.

My whole self joined in the singing. From a distance, from below, from the side, from the back I had seen Easter coming to life. I could see the women's faces, their shock and amazement as Jesus spoke to them. I sang louder, more confident. I wanted heaven to hear my voice singing out my praise from earth. I wanted to join the glorious sound of the earth singing its song to our Creator. From all over the earth, from north to south, from east to west, all 24 hours we were singing together your song.

What glory
was revealed today.
Risen, again.
We had risen up
to sing your praise.
We celebrated
the rebirth
of your own son.
Glorious wonder!
Beauty untold!
Christ is risen,
yes,
indeed.

Love, Andrea