Still Practicing Resurrection

Last week in this space I shared my thoughts on Wendell Barry’s poem that challenges us to consider what it means to practice resurrection. I thought it would be a one-time reflection, but as time went on and I started mapping out our worship services for the next few weeks, I couldn’t stop thinking about this idea of practicing resurrection. So I decided to sit with it for a little while longer—for the whole season of Easter really.

Over the next several Sundays, we’ll stick with this idea of what it means to practice resurrection by considering Jesus’ post-resurrection encounters with his followers. In addition to his two-part appearance we read this past Sunday, there’s really only two other substantial stories. But because both are on the longer side, we’ll spend two weeks on each one.

Perhaps it’s been because of this extended reflection on resurrection that I’ve found myself experiencing a deeper sense of joy and a more profound sense of freedom despite these turbulent times.

Don’t get me wrong, there’s still times I feel discouraged, overwhelmed, and even angry by everything that’s going on. I still grieve not being able to see you and ache for the day when we can once again gather together to worship, but I keep returning to this call to practice resurrection. I keep leaning into this invitation to get creative, try new things, slow down and extend grace to myself and others.

The world is in turmoil right now. This crisis has revealed and expanded the cracks in our society that have always been there, but it’s in these cracks that resurrection can take root, new life can grow, and the world can flourish like never before.

Growing up outside a small town in Ohio, I saw many furrowed fields like the one in the photo above. Around this time of year, farmers are getting ready to prepare the ground for planting their crops. This involves churning up the ground and mixing the soil with a healthy amount of manure (be glad photos can’t transmit smells). Plowing the fields and replenishing the soil at the start of a new growing season is an act of upheaval.

I see the upheaval of our world. I feel it being overturned. But my hope and my prayer continue to be that the furrows taking shape will bring forth new growth and produce a bounty we’ll be proud to harvest.

Practicing resurrection is slow hard work. As Wendell Barry wrote, it’s not about making a “quick profit.” Rather it’s about slowing down and developing the knack of living into the world as it can be—as God desires it to be. Beloved of God, I know these are heavy and trying times, but I give thanks that the One who has loved us before the beginning enables all things to grow in their time. May we be faithful stewards of this time and live into this opportunity to create a more just and peaceful world.

In Love,
Pastor Annette