He is Risen. She is Too.
There was no sunny joy on Easter Sunday, 1971. Instead of going to my grandparents’ church and then hunting Easter eggs under the East Texas pines, we were at our home church for the first time that I could remember. A car wreck on the road to our annual Easter celebration had ended my sister Martha’s life and changed our lives forever.
As we sat in church that Sunday morning, the congregation around us celebrated Christ’s resurrection and the promise of eternal life. I’m sure that someone said to me, “She’s alive with Jesus, and that’s the joy of Easter.” At age 12, I knew that was the center of our faith, but I felt cheated. While the tomb in Jerusalem was empty, the grave at Restland was full.
From my perspective, we couldn’t have been farther away from Martha on that resurrection day, but the miracle of Easter is that she was and is as close as a breath of air. Like the disciples, I needed help understanding that. For them, it came at Pentecost. As Jesus promised them in the Gospel of John, “The Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you.”
For me, that truth didn’t come in a mighty wind or in tongues of fire but in the gentle love of those around me. In that regard, being “the hands and feet of Christ” is not just a nice idea; it is very real and should be taken seriously.
And the truth came in simple moments that helped point the way for the future. On that Monday after Easter when I went back to school, a fellow sixth grader named Ricky walked up to my desk, said, “I’m sorry,” and then sat down. Class began as usual and I knew that while life was changed, it wasn’t over.
Indeed, that was decades ago and there’s been plenty of living. In those years I haven’t been to Restland more than a dozen times. I know the grave is as empty as the tomb in Jerusalem. I don’t have physical proof of that – that’s why we call it “faith” – but I know that Martha’s spirit lives because I’ve felt the Holy Spirit inside of me, and I’ve seen it at work through you.
Oh Jeff, I came so close to your world then, with what you just shared. I felt the 12 year old’s raw grieving with his world upside down but having to go thru the daily life and nothing matched up.