To give way to Easter sunrise

Darkness

When we aren’t looking 

it slips quickly from our eyes...

The sun can be up before we even know it...

when we aren’t looking.

But, when we are waiting...

waiting for the darkness to dissipate 

to give way to oranges and yellows

to purples and pinks.

It can seem like an eternity.

The darkness of those three days was longer...

longer than three days should ever take.

days, which have at times,

been years....

For darkness can seem like eternity

when we’re waiting for it to lift.

When all seems to have been stripped away.

When even Jesus has been taken from us... 

Our tears of sorrow

for the longness of our own three days,

our hearts which have ached

for the pain of our own tombs,

join Mary’s tears now...

As they drip down her face

and settle in the corners of her mouth

tasting of salt...

so do our tears.

But this morning...

this morning there is something else;

something else laced

in the breath of the rising darkness;

something else mingled

in the dampness of weeping;

something else echoing in 

the silence of empty...

Can you not hear Him in the whisper of the wind? 

can you not feel Him in the chamber of your soul?

can you not taste Him on your lips?

We could not have dreamt 

that something so empty

as a tomb

could fill us overflowing...

We could not have imagined that

darkness could become so

brilliant...

And yet it has - 

with our own eyes

at the break of day we know that it has.

For that, that is the resurrection.

That empty is not the last word.

but rather - full.

that despair is not the last word.

but - hope.

That death is not the last word.

but - life.

that darkness is not the last word

but - light.

For then we can do none other than

join Mary again

and sing in glorious song,

“I have truly seen the LORD.”

*Sunrise meditation 2012 - Epiphany Lutheran Church