April 17, 2019
To my dear siblings in Christ, the people of Los Angeles and our Synod, and to all who see this message: Praise to Jesus Christ, our Risen Lord!
In the cycle of the church’s life, the seasons of Lent, Holy Week, and Easter stand out as a time of reassessment, recommitment, and renewal. It is no accident that this season also corresponds (at least in this hemisphere) with spring, as the earth wakes up to a new season of life. That transformation is not as dramatic for us in Southern California as it is in some places, but even here we feel it in the atmosphere and the blooming of seasonal plants and trees. This year’s “superbloom” of California poppies and other wildflowers, coming on the heels of a season of terrible fires followed by torrential rains, was a herald of fresh beauty and a sign of new life.
In the cycle of our community’s life, too, we experience times of loss and healing and renewal. For some in our Southwest California Synod family, the Borderline shooting last November in Thousand Oaks remains a source of deep personal grief; for others, the murder of Nipsey Hussle in South L.A. is still an open wound, a sharp pain for a people often victimized by poverty and prejudice. Both of these tragedies represent different aspects of our national tendency toward violence; both are examples of the abuse of firearms we all deplore. These crimes call out to us to link arms and show solidarity with each other in our struggles, hoping that these deaths are not in vain, and that we might learn from them how better to care for one another.
We live fragile lives; we are dependent on the earth and the society in which we live for sustenance and safety, and sometimes traumatic human and natural events make us even more conscious of how much we depend on realities outside our own hearts and minds. The great drama of the story of Holy Week draws us into that same truth, using the story of Jesus as its center: we hear triumph and joy on Palm Sunday, love and betrayal on Maundy Thursday, injustice, grief and loss on Good Friday, and—finally—Easter’s empty tomb draws us out through mystification to radiant joy as the reality of Christ’s resurrection is played out before us again.
In these few days of Holy Week and Easter, we remember in deep detail what we also remember in shorter form every single Sunday: the cosmic drama of God’s love shown to us in the life, death, and rising of Jesus Christ. Jesus is the Word made flesh for us, that we might see him and know God. Jesus is the Spirit that binds us into one; Jesus is the Bread that nourishes our lives when we gather at his table. We see the Lamb of God offered for us; happy are those who are called to his supper.
For those pastors and deacons who are called to proclaim both grief and joy this week, I wish you strength and courage; you are literally the bearers of God’s good news for humankind, and our congregations large and small depend on you to give it voice. For all of the rest of us who will be listening to them and hearing these familiar yet strange stories again, I wish us open hearts and fresh ears—ears able to hear the message of love and hope they represent—about the love of a God who is closer to us than a parent or a sibling, and the hope of new and abundant life in a Savior who conquers death so that we too might live. In our weekly worship, but also in our service to our neighbors, we confess with both our mouths and our hands: “Christ is risen! He is risen indeed. Alleluia!”
May the powerful presence of the Risen Christ be with you every day, and strengthen you to share with others the joy and hope this good news brings to you. And please do not forget to pray for me and Rob, as we pray for you!
And may the blessing of Almighty God: Father, ✢ Son, and Holy Spirit, be with you and remain with you always! Amen.
Happy Easter!
