Resurrection

I appreciate Easter. This Lent was long, and I was glad for it to end. Perhaps that is a sign that I am in seminary, and we take liturgical seasons very seriously. Regardless, it was hard and sad and frustrating. Mingled in with the Lenten season, my New Orleans trip and the death of one of my favorite ministers sparked those emotions. I didn't feel a lot of hope while I was in New Orleans during Spring Break. I was overwhelmed and sad and frustrated and angry. I was tired. I got home and I was tired.

New Orleans was really difficult. The work on the house was like a taking the first half of a Salkehatchie (or ASP) week -- the tearing out -- and doing only that for a week. There was no rebuilding, and really what was left of the house after we tore out the moldy drywall was not necessarily rebuildable. Many of the remaining wall studs were termite damaged or moldy. The first work day, I encountered a man in the hardware store at the end of our street. We had gone to get some tools, and I said hello brightly and asked where we could find the Wonderbars. After pointing us in the right direction, the man said, "Where are ya'll from? You're too happy to be from here."

Lots of elements of the trip reminded me of Salkehatchie. We stayed in a church and worshipped and processed together as a group. I feel strong bonds with the people who shared the experience with me. We ate, laughed, prayed, worked and cried together.
The tour we took of the city is not something that I will soon forget, as much as I subconsiously tried to push it out of my mind. And it's also not something I can adequately verbalize yet. We did a presentation for Candler last week, and I was forced to reconsider and remember the experience. I have not come near fully processing it, and I don't know when that will all happen.

At the end of our week in New Orleans, our last devotion included thinking of a phrase that summarized or epitomized the experience for us. Mine was "exhaustingly aware."

I pray that New Orleans and its citizens (since not all are currently residents) will find elements of resurrection. It is a continuous process of rebirth and renewal, filled with struggles and death but also full of hope and mystery.

Another powerful, yet exhausting, element of this Lent came in the form of some amazing discussions with close friends and near strangers. We talked openly about experiences of difference, racism, religious misunderstanding and manipulation...

And then there's Patty's death. I hadn't seen or talked to her in several years. She was the first female minister I was close to but not related to. She was strong, intelligent, compassionate, amazing. She was truly called to ministry. I attended her wedding in a pink ruffled dress in the 7th grade. I was the acolyte at her ordination. And on Palm Sunday, I sat in the third row from the back at her funeral. But Palm Sunday was fitting for Patty -- rejoicing in God -- as was the final hymn of the service, "All Things Bright and Beautiful." I feel a huge loss. I am sad.

But yesterday, I sat in University Worship and heard an amazing woman preach a powerful resurrection sermon. I sat across from the four robed female ministers, and something in me jumped. I was glad to be there.

A professor at our school pointed out that different people dwell in, or are most comfortable in particular liturgical events. I am Easter People. Give me new life and rebirth anyday.
Christ is risen. He is risen indeed.