If any day in the cosmos is a greater fuck your victory to the sting of death - if any day enables that cheer - it is Easter.
I read these words for the first time five years ago. Levi the Poet wrote them in his own blog post. Every year since I have posted some photo on Easter with this caption. And as I sit here on Sunday night to actually expand my thoughts on this quote, well truthfully I am struggling to find the words.
Fuck Death.
I went back to my church for the first time in over a year today. It felt odd. Normally I would work at the coffee shop on Sunday, leave work and go straight to church. We met in the building of another church, in their basement, candlelit. It was always a small crowd, maybe 30 people. We would sing together, be encouraged together, recognize our failings together, still our minds to focus on the beauty and the pain of the world together. Scripture was read aloud, we would follow the prayers that the church globally was all saying together, on that day. One body, one people. Irregardless of race, gender, or sexuality. Whether you came to church that day with the fullest assurance, you arrived not quite knowing who Christ is, or it was all a toss up for you but you felt to be there anyway. One body.
I’ve wrestled with label of “Christian” a lot recently. One of my good friends has been in a process of coming back to the church over the last eight months and even in the last few months has found a home in the identity of a Christian. I wish I had that level of certainty, of security. Instead I have found a measure of peace in the in-between, sitting with “I don’t know.” It depends on the day, on who is asking the questions and what I think their presuppositions of a Christian is. I think when push comes to shove a lot of Christians might not consider me one, but a lot of people who aren’t Christians might. Easter, to me, is the culmination of what pulls me to Christ. It truly says that death is not the final word. That pain is not the final word. It says that I might not even have a reason for your pain, for our pain, but I have savior who suffers with us through the pain.
This past week is what the Western Church calls Holy Week, and its beautifully organized to highlight this.
It starts the week before Easter with Palm Sunday where the church celebrates to triumphal ride of Christ, on a donkey, into Jerusalem. This calls to mind Heaven, Paradise, the Kingdom of Gød where all creeds are laid down. As the Scriptures say “there are no Jew, no Greek, no Gentile, no slave, and no free.” One people.
On Thursday there is Maundy Thursday. A day the represents the duality of life. Celebration and death; together. You have a long held feast day! It’s the end of lent and we celebrate by eating well, by eating together and reflecting on the peace of Christ that was with us through Lent. We also remember the Last Supper. The last meal Jesus partook of with his best friends before he was betrayed. We also have Christ instituting the longest tradition of the Church, the Eucharist. This is the only day, in the Catholic Church, that private mass is not allowed to be held. Signifying the communal nature of the church. One body.
Good Friday. An ironic name really. The day of the crucifixion. The day the incarnate Gød died. Every alter that the Eucharist is celebrated at is laid bare. There is no celebration. Only mourning.
Holy Saturday. Up until this year I never quite took a moment to consider this day. This is the day that Death has won. Where the grave that holds Divinity infleshed is full.
And last we come to Easter. The great deus ex machina. Right as the grand story seems to be coming to its climax. Where the pain, the struggle, the hurt of this life seem to have the final word we have the resurrection. We have Christ the Victor over death. Do not be fooled this doesn't remove all pain from life. But it reminds us that it does not have the final word. It’s not the end of the sentence or the end of the story. There is more. There is reconciliation. There is healing. There is wholeness. There is peace.
2020 was a year that pain and death and hurt seemed to be an ever present reality. Frankly I felt like I had lots of things go my way, and at the end of the year I feel exhausted, tired and burnt out. But today is a reminded that it’s not the end. It’s not that we ignore the pain of the world, but that we sit with it. We share the burden with those who feel it the most. Today is the day that empowers us to go into the dark places, into the brokenness of this life and to bring peace. To walk alongside with.
The wake death leaves is mountainous. We roll our ankles in crags that are love and loss and confusion and anger and time and memory. Cancer should have not stripped the strength away from our friends. The cold should not have come to take away our fathers. Razors should not have bled the life from our lovers. Age should not have claimed the youth in our grandparents' eyes.
Death will not always a part of life.
It won’t forever reign.
Hope is not buried in a grave. Whether you have loved and lost, or feel like you are losing, death is not the bookend.
Death only spilt blood that spoke a better word.
Fuck Death