I was invited by DignityUSA to write a reflection for Easter as part of Breath of the Spirit and Lenten Reflection Series. Using it as an opportunity to respark my pulpit :-)
April 9, 2023: Solemnity of Easter
Acts 10:34q, 37-43
Psalm 118:1-2, 16-17, 22-23
1 Corinthians 5:6b-8
John 20:1-9
Easter Sunday. Stone moved. Empty tomb. Mary Magdalene’s fears. Simon Peter out of breath. Confusion. No body. Yet belief and hope.
What did happen that day? We know – depending on which gospel narrative is being read – that different configurations of folks went to the tomb. In John’s gospel, we know that Mary Magdalene, Peter, and “and the disciple Jesus loved” went to the tomb. My mind goes to who was not there. And no, not just Jesus’ body. Where was Mary, mother of Jesus? Jesuit spirituality reflects that the reason none of the resurrection narratives mention Mary is that she was the first person to whom Jesus appeared (be it out of love, obligation, or fear of what Mary would do to him if he didn’t). Whether we believe Mary had an actual visit or just her motherly instinct, she knew that the tomb was not the end of the story but would be a space of birth and rebirth. My mother would have been the first person at the tomb and moved the stone herself to make sure all was well with my body (and probably take out some soldiers if needed). Like Mary, she would also expect me to visit her before anyone else. Whether Jewish or Cuban, Mary knew in her heart that the story had not ended, but was – and is – continuing.
I struggle with the passion narratives and the hyper-focus on the cross. It was and is a symbol of violence, punishment, and fear used to coerce subjugated people. Yes, through the eyes and experience of faith the cross became a symbol of sacrificial, redemptive love – yet the narrative is still violent. Why do we continue to lift it up as the symbol of our faith and put so much focus on sin, blood, pain, and trauma? The cross and tomb were not, and are not, the end of the story. A lot happened afterward: the resurrection, ascension, Pentecost, and the birth of a whole movement of people carrying on Jesus’ ministry to widening circles. We are not a crucified church but a church of resurrection that wholizes people through love, justice, compassion, and hope.
The writers of Acts, the letter to the Corinthians, the psalm, and even the Victimae Paschali Laudes (the Easter Sequence read or sung in many churches after the second reading; hear it chanted here) share sacrifice but ultimately call us to witness joyfully and to give witness through our rejoicing. Why is this so hard for us to do today (and throughout the history of the church)? Why do we privilege hardship and suffering over liberation and wholeness? I am not advocating that we dismiss challenges, trials, and tribulations. In our ministries we need to name and recognize the pain that LGBTQIA2S+ individuals and communities continue to experience – the spreading of anti-us legislation and policies, increasing acts of violence, and other attacks on our dignity and humanity. We need to name and actively counter the hate – at the same time, we must recognize that resistance is also grounded in our ongoing existence and embodiments of wholizing rejoicing. We recognize the harm while also recognizing, affirming, and celebrating resilience, transilience, and liberation. The Easter narrative is a both/and experience that invites, nudges, and challenges us to live into and live out both/and ministries and witness. Like Jesus’ resurrected body, the scars are still present but have been redefined by hope-filled wholeness.
As we honor the passion, may we remember and re-member the whole narrative. Not just as an experience that was or will be, but also an experience that is happening in this moment. Resurrection is not just our future; it is also our now. The future is queer, feminist, intersectional, black, brown, indigenous, and so on – but so is this moment because we are here now. As difficult as it may be, for we know the story has not ended but continues, may we rejoice and be glad in the Easter liberation that is happening in us right now. Amen!
Questions for reflection:
- How do we recognize and proclaim Jesus’ resurrection in us today?
- What does our Easter witness look like today?
- In what ways are we lifting up LGBTQIA2s+ joy and resurrection today?
- Who is this disciple that Jesus loved? Who do you think it is and what does this relationship mean for us as queer people today? Some scholars on the more radical side of biblical interpretation see this as a hint to Jesus’ bisexuality or pansexuality or disruption of societal norms … we can’t know for sure, however, can this interpretation affirm folks today?
la lucha, mi púlpito 