The Easter Cross

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Growing up in Southeast Texas, spring brought with it flowering trees like dogwoods and magnolias as well as an amazing array of azaleas. My parents cultivated azalea beds all around out house, and on Sunday morning they would help my sisters and I collect flowers from around the yard for the Easter Cross. The Easter Cross was a pretty ugly cross that stayed in a dark closet most of the year. Then the altar guild would put the cross out, and as families showed up, children of all ages would rush in and tuck their flower stem through one of the little holes that were all over the dark green cross. By the time the service started, the ugly cross would be covered with flowers; a colorful symbol of resurrection; a beautiful announcement that Jesus is risen! 

Symbols of resurrection are all around us, and sometimes it takes such a sweet gesture of a beloved community to help us see them. Resurrection doesn't come until after the crucifixion and sometimes we get stuck sitting at the empty tomb lamenting the death, so we don't hear Jesus us calling, as he called Mary. We might even mistake him for an ordinary gardener. Fortunately, Mary turned to look, and saw her resurrected Lord, who sent her, the first apostle of the resurrection, to go tell the others who were hiding out still suffering under the illusion that death had won. 

My friend Adam died while we were in seminary together. He had this wild, obnoxious laugh and a big collection of shoes, including his Aggie Corps boots. One year for his birthday, we watched The Big Lebowski movie, then went bowling wearing bathrobes. When we planned his funeral, we sat around a table, all us would-be priests, and pondered how it could be possible to sing the alleluias of Easter while we still felt the sorrow of Good Friday. Our mentors guided us on, reminded us to live in hope, encouraged us to honor Adam's over-the-top joy as we planned. Indeed, it was a festive celebration at which I got to play bluegrass and someone ran his shoes up the flagpole. That all helped us remember death had not won. 

As we continue to celebrate the 50 days of Easter, I'd like to invite you to notice the signs and symbols of resurrection happening all around you. Even if you are living under the burden of Good Friday sadness, try for a moment to look up and out. See the colors of the sunrise. See the blooming flowers. See the smile of a friend or stranger. That ugly old cross, an instrument of death, is becoming a means of life. The flowers are showing us, reminding us, that Jesus is risen! 

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