Therefore, let us celebrate the feast,
not with the old yeast, the yeast of malice and wickedness,
but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth.
Deep down you know that sincerity and truth is more satisfying. You cover it in cynicism and pass that off as wit. You direct most of your malice inward, only occasionally letting it flash into wickedness. But you pretend to prefer wickedness in order to appear current.
He went about doing good
and healing all those oppressed by the devil,
for God was with him.
So maybe you’re not oppressed by the devil, but you still have a little ways to go. Do you want to be well? Stop thinking that whatever is wrong with you is so impressive that you can’t be healed. That’s pride, you know. Maybe you say you’re too bad to be healed, but you say it in a tone that says “I’m too good”.
“Why do you seek the living one among the dead?”
Still looking for life in the same tired places? In appearance, in approval, in applause? I can’t tell you where to look next. But if you haven’t found what you’re looking for where you’ve always found it, look someplace else.
This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad.
The un-ironic joy of Easter can make us self-conscious. It’s one thing to be happy that the days are getting longer, that the warmth of spring is coming, that I get to have what I gave up for Lent. It’s another entirely to rejoice that Christ conquers death, and that someday he’s taking me with him.
Rejoice and be glad. Try this today, if you haven’t already. If it comes easy to you, spread it around. If you’re not used to it, fake it ‘til you make it. Love today’s readings, love today’s songs, love the people who flood your churches once in the spring and once in December, love the flowers struggling to bloom, love yourself. Rejoice and be glad. Alleluia, alleluia.