Today, I recall Annie Dillard’s quote that I wrote about this time last year. She profoundly asks this about Jesus: “Does anyone have the foggiest idea what sort of power we so blithely invoke? Or, as I suspect, does no one believe a word of it?” I wondered last year what my life might be like if I understood this more fully.
What would happen if I did? What would happen if I lived my life in daily resurrection power? The kind of power that brings dead things to life, parts seas, brings down manna from heaven, heals the blind, walks on water, multiplies meager resources, changes one thing into another, finds treasure in the mouth of a fish, silences the demons, commands nature, cleanses, restores, redeems, renews, protects, provides. . .
Oh, if I did! Seeing my life’s problems in the light of resurrection power fills me with a sublime joy. I’m filled with wonder before a Holy God. I’m skirting around the hem of glory, daring to touch a bit of the magic that upholds the universe.
We invoke a power we cannot comprehend.
Easter of 2011, I asked God what has to die in me. I knew powerfully that with every burial, resurrection power comes. I knew that year that something incredible awaits, but it’s a passage through death and thorns.
The thorns around the vernal pond showed me this.
Finally, in Easter 2010, I learned that most of all, Easter is about love and grace.
Today is a burial, but a resurrection comes.