After Easter. Still.
Everything I meant to send you on Mondays
Earlier this year, I wrote the whole series of After Easter posts, planning to send them to you every Monday as a special thanks for supporting my work with your generosity.
And then after my diagnosis? Every word fell flat. I tried sending out a few, hoping they might stick. But then I stared at the blinking cursor every time I was set to post.
Nothing made sense like it did before.
Yet I’ve always believed that the last 10 days of the Easter season—the stretch in which we find ourselves now, between Ascension and Pentecost—matter most.
This decade of days is what separates Easter from Lent’s length. We are made not for mourning, or even primarily for penitence or preparation. We are made to rejoice! To live fully with God in the abundance of life, the gift of joy, the promise of the Resurrection.
So every year I try to remember these 10 days. Convinced they might mean everything.
The handful of days between Jesus going up to heaven and the Holy Spirit coming down to earth must have been a wild and mystical stretch of time for the early Christians. For them and for us, these days teach us how to live with the impossible.
Bodies don’t go up to heaven. Bodies get buried in the ground. But the Ascension undid all that.
Fire can’t touch your head without burning. You can’t learn how to speak a new language in an instant. But Pentecost undid all that.
The grieving can’t be filled with joy. The followers can’t survive without a leader. A tiny ragtag band can’t change the world. But Ascension and Pentecost undid all that.
The space between Ascension and Pentecost teaches us that the impossible can be possible and the unreal can become real. We need these feasts of light and hope, fire and promise. Especially in days of darkness.
We cannot waste this time—these ten days in-between, or these years we’re given to live on the earth. There will be scoffers and disbelievers, cynics and opponents, evil-doers and oppressors. Always have been. But the holy fire of the Spirit was sent here to keep burning. We are the ones to carry the flame for today.
In that same Spirit, I wanted to share the holy words and the beautiful art I collected for you here. One more chance to reflect on these Easter stories in word and image. (With a final coda from me at the end.)
Now is the time we need these stories most, isn’t it? We can never exhaust their depth. May they bring you light and hope for today and every day beyond.