Easter blessings...

For the last two hours I've been sitting on the back porch in the sweet sun with my sweetheart reading the New York Times in-between bites of left-over Indian food. Soon I'm off for a nap after a full and beautiful day in worship.

Today I threw away my Easter sermon notes - I used parts (from the beginning) - but mostly I simply affirmed that God's love is so great for us that all we can do is rejoice in the mystery of grace and trust that God's presence is bigger than all our doubts, fears and confusion. It was the right thing to do but I continue to reflect on something Frederick Buechner wrote about Jesus making his presence known NOT in “a blaze of unearthly light,” but in the midst of us. Christ most often comes:
Not in the midst of a sermon, nor in the throes of some kind of religious daydream, but… at supper time – around a table – or walking along a road. This is where all the stories about Christ’s resurrection happen: in the real and common events of life. Mary waiting at the empty tomb and suddenly turning around to see somebody standing there – someone she first thought was the gardener – only to grasp it was Christ… or Peter taking his boat back after a night at sea and there on the shore, near a little fire of coals, a familiar figure asking, “Children, do you have any fish?”; or the those men at Emmaus who knew him in the breaking of bread.

And over the past few days - and three times this morning - this truth of Christ coming to us in our midst of things came back to me in spades.

+ For example, last night at the grocery store while I was picking up a few goodies, I bumped into a woman in the coffee/tea aisle. She is a bright, hard working person who very much appreciates religious tradition and often asks me important and probing questions about why I make certain changes. After exchanging pleasantries about the beauty and warmth of spring time in the Berkshires, she said, "I really liked the way people just got up out of the congregation - without robes - and shared their music on Maundy Thursday."

I was stunned - and perhaps she was, too - because she quickly added, "Did you just hear who said that to you?" And I most certainly did - and I was grateful. And then she added, "I get it now... the work of the people... sharing their gifts from God with the people of God not as performance but... because it is right." We both smiled deeply and I stumbled over some affirmation or another that was totally inadequate before we continued with our shopping. But I kept thinking: Thanks be to God! The hard work and prayer, the careful preparation and constant explanation and the openness to all questions is really starting to pay off. (And I must say that the music those four generous and talented people shared on Maundy Thursday WAS breath taking, humble and reverent.)

+ And then today... I was so touched and grateful. First, my colleague and predecessor in ministry joined me and five other clergy in concelebrating the liturgy for Easter Sunday. His daughter, a first year seminarian, joined us, too. Afterwards he said: "You know, this was the first time in five years I've been in a robe or done anything liturgical in this Sanctuary. Given my brain injury (he had been hit by a car while on his bicycle) one Sunday I preached and celebrated communion and the next Thursday I had resigned - and I've never been back into the Sanctuary in my robe again." We both shared some tears at that... What's more, I was totally blown away when he was able to receive Holy Communion from his daughter. Another "in the midst" moment, yes?

+ And curiously enough this prompted a man in the congregation who has been experiencing the worst of humanity of late, to have his own "in the midst" encounter with Christ. After worship he let me know that he saw something of God's joy resurrected today in all of this celebrating. He said: "I had an epiphany of what Easter means when Christ is risen in our hearts. Because of your joy, your robes, and the fact that you took communion from your own daughter, I was able to see the triumph of spirit in you. Believe me, I needed to see proof of the rebirth of spirit this week, and you are my proof."

+ And then there was the only ordained woman colleague sharing the liturgical prayers of the Eucharist with me: at one point she was filled to over-flowing with tears - I really don't know all the reasons why - but as she held the host high we waiting as the emotions surged through her. And when she was ready - or the Spirit was ready -we all returned to the liturgy and gave thanks to the Lord in a profound way.

As they say in some traditions, "We HAD church today" and I think that was true. But mostly in the little things in the midst of us: table fellowship, families celebrating together, old robes reclaimed, old wounds touched by grace, new faith strengthened, beauty and tradition amplified by discipleship and hope. Dianne had spent the better part of Lent sewing together HUGE drape/banners to support the beautiful handmade banner another woman had made to hang beneath the cross - and they dressed the Sanctuary with tender color and an abundance of love. My musical director had worked our small choir vigorously to get Vivaldi's "Gloria" right - and they sang like angels.

To say that I am a very, very grateful man as the afternoon sun ripens in Western Massachusetts would be an understatement... but it is true. And now I'm off for a nap and few days off.