The Perfect Easter?
It could be the perfect Easter. The fruit trees are in full bloom and daffodils, crocus and hyacinth are popping up everywhere. Weather.com is reporting a 0% likelihood of rain. Just a little chilly at Core Creek Park, but the sun will rise at 6:27; perfect timing for the early worship service. Family will be home and Sunday dinner will be especially nice. Yes, it could be the perfect Easter.
Yeah, my tongue is well into my cheek as I write these words, but don’t take me as being too cynical. The trees in our neighborhood have burst into bloom in the last few days and the hyacinth along the walk to the front door are just out. I love the early spring. I’ve been checking the forecast and know very well that we may not have “perfect weather” for this afternoon’s Cross Walk, but the Easter sunrise service is looking pretty good. Our son and daughter-in-law arrived last night and Becky has found a lamb recipe that sounds delicious. Yes, it could be the perfect Easter.
There’s nothing wrong with being happy when all pieces of the puzzle seem to be fitting nicely together. Maybe even perfectly together.
Perfection implies a standard, though; expectations being met. I expect crisp spring sunshine for Easter morning. My friends in Brazil expect the heat of the early fall. I expect to be in worship, to hear “He is risen indeed!” and to sing “Jesus Christ is Risen Today.” An increasing number of Americans look forward to Bunny Day and, this year, to the final round of the Masters. (And speaking of bunnies, I googled images of Easter and of the first twenty results on my query, 16 were of bunnies, eggs, or bunnies and eggs; four were Christian or vaguely Christian. So much for the culture wars.)
The Scriptures make no mention of the weather on the first day of the week. But we know that the relational climate was stormy. When Mary and the other women first told their story of an empty tomb, no one believed them. They were women, after all. Luke speaks of a trip home, but it was the long walk to Emmaus by Cleopas and his friend, an altogether discouraging walk interrupted by a very strange stranger. Thomas missed the day and when he finally showed up (where had he been, anyway?) he didn’t believe any of it. By my standards it wouldn’t have been a perfect Easter at all.
But that first Easter was the perfect Easter for it accomplished all that God intended.
Even if it rains on Sunday, even if the lamb recipe bombs and the bunny doesn’t leave us any eggs, it will still be a perfect day. Not because my expectations are met, but because God's purposes were fulfilled.
The Perfect Easter?