Yesterday’s Easter Vigil at 6 AM was rather too early for me. I made the 10:30 service, and amid the song and incense of Eastertide I realized that the Resurrection didn’t happen with everyone waiting for it. It happened while many were sleeping, some were on guard duty like any other night, and those most in grief and shock cowered in a locked room. While they despaired the Resurrection happened. May it be so for everyone today who sees hope crucified.
This Easter, it occurred to me that there are people who might be called Good Friday’s children. Some parents single out one of their children for vile abuse. Often it’s a good sweet child they torment. That’s murderous to the spirit. And yet there are Good Friday’s children whose lives and spirits are resurrected in ways that register on them and their friends as miraculous. May it be so for them all, again and again.