Resurrection

"He is risen."

"He is risen indeed."

"Why do we have to say that?"

Two hours in a row I hear the questioning response to this phrase that is so deeply engrained in our version of Christianity. Why do we have to say that? Why, on this day where we have given more press time to the cross than the resurrection, do we declare over and over again that He is risen indeed?

The first time, it is one of my fifth graders who asks her question of the air as we make our way into another song that they don't remember ever hearing before - quite possibly because they never have - and I answer with small group time spent hiding and searching for paper eggs with results of the resurrection scrawled across them in washable marker.

"Peace, hope, freedom, fellowship...[...]...equality??"

They stumble over the word, look at me funny when I pronounce it for them, wheels spinning as they try to come up with a definition for the word 'equal.'

"Half and half?"

"No..." The one who asked her question of the air shakes her head, fingering the edges of the Kenyan fabrics that we throw onto the ground for color and warmth.

"The same as!" A third girl sits up a little straighter against the pillow that she has claimed.

"Good. Look up Galatians 3:28 for me."

They flip through their Bibles a little haphazardly, this one starting in Genesis, that one starting in Psalms, but we get there quickly enough.

There is no longer Jew or gentile, slave or free, male and female. For you are all one in Christ Jesus.

After a little explanation they get it, but in the same disjointed way that one would understand Pluto's fluctuating planetary status. It's there, but it doesn't really mean anything.

"Why do we have to say that?"

The second time is one of the eighth graders sitting behind me as the response echoes out from the entire congregation. And, I have to admit that I was a little distracted by the red lights on the wall as we're singing about the blood. They might be flowers? Clouds? But, they look an awful lot like platelets.

Do fancy light show lights come preprogramed with an option for platelets, or is that something special that you download for Good Friday services and Easter morning?

His question, though, pulls me a little closer back to focus. Why the Resurrection? Why this day, when we mix up rabbits and crosses and graphics of clean, pale hands with a tidy mark no bigger than the head of a construction nail? If Jesus died for our sins on the cross, if it was finished, then why does Easter matter?

Why?

Because, holy cow, do we ever need the Resurrection.

When my twitter feed is littered with #reclaimholyweek at the same time that these ten-year-olds are first twisting their tongues around the word equality, I need to know that the Resurrection is real. I need to know that the humanity that was crucified on the cross did more than lie on the pavement while people took video to post on YouT*be in hopes of justice.

If my Jesus was lynched, crucified, killed by the state, killed by my hands, then I also need to know that He rose again, conquering sin and death and giving us victory as well. I need to know that we struggle against death, not because we fear it, but because it has already been defeated.

We need the Resurrection. I need the Resurrection. When throwing rocks escalates to a killing not too many miles from my current home. When 147 university students die just a few kilometers from a previous one and a nation spends Good Friday grieving. When the grave seems to be winning every time that we turn around, there is power in being a people who declare that the story isn't over yet.

Because, a story that ends today, tomorrow, fifty years from now, isn't one worth giving everything for. And, no, that isn't heresy, the apostle Paul said the same thing.

But, our God is big, bigger even than we have thought to imagine when we talk about the vastness of the universe or the wonder of a God who exists outside of time and space. Divinity did not allow humanity to be bested by the chaos of the universe. In the Resurrection, entropy runs backwards, time turns sideways, and we are reminded of the More that is already and still to come.

The question isn't, "Why do we have to say that?" but, "Why don't we say that every day?"

He is risen.

He is risen indeed.