Big Feelings

On Easter Sunday, as I sat on the front pew of the chapel at the Western Correctional Center for Women, a friend sat down beside me and said with a heavy sigh, “This has been an emotional day.” I concurred.

I knew when my alarm went off at 6:00 AM - set far earlier than usual so we could attend the sunrise service - that this would be a day for big feelings, but I had underestimated both the scope and intensity of my emotions.

Photo by Joanne Glaudemans on Unsplash

Easter would be a day for grieving, as our congregation said goodbye to a beloved couple on our church’s staff. But I was surprised by the other waves of grief that crested and fell throughout the morning. During the sunrise service in the Sacred Garden, I looked up at the window where a friend used to stand to take photos of this annual event; his death last summer continues to reverberate. During Bible study, a long-time class member said her goodbyes in advance of an upcoming move. Another loss.

Easter would also be a day of celebration, as we reflected on the miracle of all miracles - Jesus’ resurrection. The traditional call and response never fails to move me: Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! And can anyone sing the Hallelujah Chorus without experiencing at least a small rush of joy?

First Baptist Church of Asheville Adult Choir

Perhaps the strongest waves of competing emotions arose during communion, as I held a chalice of grape juice at the front of the sanctuary. My heart soared when I spotted dear friends from Nashville sitting in my assigned section for communion. I felt tears welling up in my eyes as they made their way down the aisle to receive the elements.

I remained on the brink of tears as worshipers continued to pause in front of me to dip pieces of bread into the chalice. I pondered the personal stories carried by this holy procession. For many, Easter is a particularly joyful day, when they worship alongside members of their extended family. For others, Easter is a particularly painful day, when they are keenly aware of the absence of loved ones due to death or distance, illness or estrangement.

Following a much needed nap, I headed to Swannanoa to join members of our church’s prison ministry worship team in leading our monthly service. I had been looking forward to this evening’s service, since this would be the first time in my life I would get to preach on Easter Sunday. The fact that I would be preaching to a gathering of women was a bonus.

My perpetual calendar from Sacred Seasons: Journeying through the Liturgy

While I was preparing my Easter sermon based on Matthew’s account of the resurrection, I spent time reflecting on the two women the gospel writer places at the empty tomb: Mary Magdalene and “the other” Mary. I have always been inspired and astonished by their faithfulness, these women who followed Jesus to the cross, aware they were putting themselves at risk, knowing they could never unsee what they would see.

Undoubtedly traumatized by their Teachers’s horrific execution, and grieving not only the loss of a person but also the loss of a dream, these two women nevertheless remained faithful. As a final act of devotion to the One who had transformed their lives, the two Marys prepared to properly anoint Jesus’ body. But before they could carry out this burial ritual, they observed the Sabbath.

This narrative detail always gets to me. Luke reports that the women rested on the Sabbath. Despite everything they had witnessed, they still chose to honor God by obeying God’s commandment to keep the Sabbath holy. These grief-stricken women did not turn away from God in the face of suffering and loss, confusion and fear.

Every time I worship with the women at the prison, I marvel at their ability to live at the intersection of grief and joy. They are learning how to manage big feelings. They have lost so much, yet they still choose to worship the Lord with gladness. As we sang our first hymn together, over 100 voices rang out: “I serve a risen Savior, He’s in the world today. I know that He is living, whatever men may say. I see His hand of mercy; I hear His voice of cheer; and just the time I need Him, He’s always near.”

On that first Easter Sunday, two Marys bore witness to the good news of Jesus’ resurrection. Nearly two millennia later, these women did the same.

Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!