Blinking At The Sun
One day this week, I walked out the door with a layer less than the day warranted. And why not, it’s spring-time, isn’t it? I endured a little bit of shivering because in my heart of hearts I wanted it to be in the 60’s and sunny. At one point I remarked to someone, “Why is it so dark today?”
There’s something about the changing of seasons that awakens a particular kind of desire in us. The days are brighter, longer. The cool, heavy wetness of the air begins to thin out into something more breathable, even as the pollen clogs our sinuses. We emerge from our houses, walk our neighborhoods, tend our yards. The soul awakens.
It’d be easy to say this is all just the body responding to more sunlight. Seasonal affective disorder is a real thing, of course. But we are not just a body; human beings are body and soul, inextricably linked together, and the new rhythms of Spring point to something deeper about us: we long for new life.
This is primal in us. One could argue that it’s primal to the religious instinct. From sun worship to fertility goddesses, human beings have been drawn to worship darkness turning to light, something birthed from nothing. This primal instinct still infects our stories - we cheer when the hero escapes certain death, when the bad guy is redeemed, when the couple we thought was going to break up stays together. You can see new life celebrated everywhere, when you look for it.
I’m grateful we have an idea of where this all comes from. The Greatest Story - the resurrection story - informs all the lesser stories, and reveals why our hearts yearn the way they do.
The resurrection story is not only Jesus’ story, it’s also the end of our story. God promises that one day he will “make all things new.” Our souls know this even if we don’t know Jesus, and our hearts beat stronger with the thought.
But new life is not just something for the future. Jesus told us that he came so that we “may have life, and have it to the full.” A follower of Jesus is called to be a minister of new life, to experience in part today what we will see in full one day. And to sow seeds of new life in whatever they do.
So I’m grateful for the things we’re doing together as a community right now.
I’m grateful to be hosting an Alpha course, a space for people to not only discuss the bigger questions of life, but to experience welcoming, feasting, and belonging in a world that is often cold.
I’m grateful for the chance to do some of the same in our neighborhood egg hunts. What if an egg hunt isn’t merely an egg hunt, but a chance to show hospitality, to share joy, to create belonging with your neighbors?
Even as we worship outdoors this Sunday, walking and praying, weeding the community garden at Helpline Food Bank, and putting together kits for people to run those neighborhood egg hunts, we get the chance to see glimpses of new life, glimmering around the edges of the ordinary. Spring is here!
Pastor Larry