This morning we celebrate the resurrection of our Lord. Some gather around screens to watch live-streamed Easter services from home churches or places of worship we now have an opportunity to visit virtually.
We are shaken. No longer able to rely on our safe and comfortable traditions, we ask ourselves what we really need to mark this holy day. Quiet, in the stillness of our heart, we breathe a holy hallelujah.
This stark peeling back of the things we’ve trusted in offers an opportunity to find the kind of faith that’s real, and sometimes raw; the kind of faith that endures through dark nights like the ones we’re stumbling through right now.
God doesn’t live in a building. The Divine is right here with us. We imperfect and currently baffled ones are the church.
Whether we worship from a pew or a forest or our living room sofa isn’t the point. The point is that we worship. Alone, together, with the stones and the hills and the trees, we raise our voices.
He is risen!
He is risen, indeed.
He is risen! He is risen indeed.