The Morning After

It's Monday morning. I'm at my office at BNA. The sanctuary -- First Presbyterian, Arlington, Va. -- where I worshipped yesterday sits empty today. The organ is silent, the trumpets have packed up and departed. The Easter lilies have gone to good homes. Easter Day is over.

Today the hard work of the Resurrection begins.

When we encounter the risen Jesus today, will we recognize him? Will we be transformed by him? Or will we be so preoccupied, so focused on "business as usual" that we fail to see him? 

Resurrection -- as opposed to Easter -- happens not amidst trumpet and organ. It happens -- or presents the opportunity to happen -- when we least expect it, at the most inopportune moments. On a road to Emmaus. Sitting in a Presbytery meeting. Voting at the General Assembly. Talking, even arguing, with someone who has a totally different vision of where the PC (USA) is going, or ought to be going, than you do.

I can belt out "Jesus Christ Is Risen Today" with the best of them ("best," in this case, meaning loudest, not most on tune). But my guess is that when I encounter the risen Jesus it's not going to be on Easter Day while I'm singing "Jesus Christ Is Risen Today."

I hope, I pray, that I'm ready to meet the risen Jesus today. Today, on Monday, without trumpets, without lilies. Today, when we're back to "business as usual." Today, when I -- when we -- least expect him.

When the risen Jesus comes to me, I hope, I pray, that I will recognize him. I hope, I pray, that I will be transformed. I hope, I pray, that I can embrace the power and the glory of the Resurrection -- even without the trumpets.

Today, Monday, I hope to be walking on the road to Emmaus. And tomorrow. And the next day. Are you walking with me?

Comments

[Linda Eastwood]

Thanks. That was the reminder that I needed, this morning, to live out the hope of the Resurrection.

[Roy Howard]

Yes. Thank you.

[Yena Hwang]

I'm trying to walk on that road...trying my best. Thanks for sharing~