What does celebrating Easter mean when life feels so chaotic? What does it mean to proclaim resurrection with people whose lives are dominated by uncertainty and laced with fear?
Maybe it means being in community with those who help provide perspective — both in the immediate circumstances and in the hope of Easter.
In the United States right now, people who have always been vulnerable are ever more so, facing such threats as high food prices, deportation without due process, and disregard for court orders meant to protect them.
In addition, some who have spent years in service to others as health care researchers, government employees, educators and other vocations, face the prospect of their work being eliminated — both the funding as well as the fruits of their labor. Rigorous academic study and training could not prepare them for this.
Celebrating Easter at such a moment can feel out of touch and it can also feel life giving. How can we be with each other in ways that acknowledge the realities of both fear and hope?
When the women came to the tomb, they came to mourn. Jesus’ trial and execution had dashed their hopes that he would triumph over the injustice that they experienced. The discovery of the empty tomb and the accompanying promise of resurrection were a jolt on that Sunday morning. Faced with unbelievable news, some raced to see for themselves, while others stayed away, still gripped by fear.
In every Easter season since the first, some have despaired, maybe because of war or political persecution. Perhaps the grief is more personal, like the death of someone dear.
Maybe people participate in Easter to hear about hope that rises above the current circumstances. Participating does not change the situation, but it can shift the horizon. The hope of the resurrection is the present and future participation in God’s reign, a circumstance that is not fully realized on earth.
Perspective is an element of hope at a more tactical level. I work at a university that conducts many research projects supported by federal funding. Given the evolving federal policy, our leadership has instituted a hiring freeze and other processes to review and ultimately reduce spending.
For some this is a shock. But after 18 years at this school, I have been through this kind of reduction twice already, during the 2008 recession and the 2020 COVID lockdowns. I know what to expect and the most likely longer-term results. There are important differences between this moment and previous crises. However, my experience gives a perspective that there is a way through these challenges.
Somber Lent that progresses to Easter provides a longer-term view on a cosmic scale. Holy seasons come every year, in good times and bad. When life is good, Lent calls us to remember the dark and difficult times that some now suffer and that we all experience on occasion. For those in the midst of distress, Lent is a season that acknowledges and specifically accompanies suffering.
Likewise, resurrection comes every year. The celebration calls us to realize that our hope is not in ourselves, not in our assets or attitude. Lasting hope does not come from the government. It comes from the Lord, maker of heaven and earth.
This year I know many people who had financially secure lives as government employees, scientists and nonprofit leaders and are now in the midst of losing their jobs while not knowing where to turn. They spent a decade or more becoming equipped to do work that they believed would change lives for the better. This chaos came on quickly.
Two of my friends are in such chaos. One’s organization laid her off with no notice and scant severance. Another’s interfaith organization is in conflict over what it means to support all their members through the violence in Gaza.
As is often the case these days, many are taking the stance that if you don’t agree with them, you are their enemy and you should leave. In 20th century conflict consultations, we called this level of tension “winners stay and losers leave.”
Each of these friends have excellent support networks and superior records of accomplishment. Neither expected these problems at this time.
In listening to them, I was searching for how to be helpful. I had been a part of each one’s professional journey for more than 15 years. I could see how they had developed and could challenge them when their stories overemphasized defeat. There was much that I did not know and could not do. But I had longer-term perspective on their ministries and their families. Each of us shares both a professional and faith journey, so we had a common language of hope.
I believe that my conversations with them, in addition to many other conversations, helped my friends get a glimpse of an Easter hope — a hope that grieves loss and witnesses to life coming out of death. Hope that is seen in women talking with strangers at an empty tomb, in men walking to Emmaus and encountering a most wise stranger. As we hear from Psalm 121 (NRSVUE):
I lift up my eyes to the hills —
from where will my help come?
My help comes from the Lord,
who made heaven and earth.
Easter is a moment when we lift our eyes to the hills. As a community of believers, we join together to witness the hope whose source is our God, the creator and sustainer.
There are some losses that are harder to observe and share. But right now, vulnerability is not isolated to a single employer, economic reality or profession. Many of us are in this moment together.
We can also be together looking into the empty tomb and meeting messengers interpreting what is happening. We can look heavenward as the disciples did at Jesus’ ascension. We can help one another in practical ways by being each other’s support. We can look together for signs of Easter hope.
Maybe you are not ready for such dramatic hope. Maybe you are living in Lent. Maybe you need friends who will hold faith for you. Maybe you will get a tiny glimpse on Easter Sunday. Don’t worry, the hope of the resurrection is celebrated on one day but is available every day. It does not depend on your faith. This hope depends on God, the creator of heaven and earth.
Celebrating Easter at such a moment can feel out of touch and it can also feel life giving.