Good Friday 2010, Part II

Thanks everyone for reading the KtB post or for reading and commenting on Huffington (there’s a good discussion brewing there). 

I also want to thank a dear friend of mine for making me thing about something: In my provisional Christianity, is the overwhelming burden I feel a spiritual anxiety of hopelessness or homelessness?

I don’t know how my piece reads to the people who aren’t living in my head (it’s not as crowded in there as you might think), but I do want to say that I don’t feel hopeless.  A few years ago, around Easter, a friend of mine said when people ask him “do you believe in the Resurrection?” his answer is always “it depends on the day.”  My friend’s not being flippant here…I think he’s actually being humble.  He reminded me that the balance of the church tradition has always said that the Resurrection (of Christ, of us, or both) is something we hope for. The writer of Hebrews says “faith is the substance of things hoped for.”  I used to think it was all very ironic to talk about something this important in terms of it being something we hope for, but maybe, in some ways, it’s humble. I know that for me, if I’m going to go ahead and believe in God (I do), it’s not hard for me to believe that God can raise the dead if God wants.  Once you believe in God, believing in the Resurrection doesn’t seem that hard to me personally.  But I’ll also say that the times I’ve found it hardest to believe the Resurrection are the times when I’ve needed it to be true the most.  It’s harder for me to believe in it when people I love are dying, because I’m all of the sudden wondering if I don’t hope for it because I need to.

Last week I had a dream that it was Easter and I was singing “Up From The Grave He Arose” at the top of my mystic fool lungs in my best raspy falsetto.  It felt great.  Whatever Good Friday means, the narrative that God triumphs (and that triumph is for us) is one that digs in, changes history.  I’ve said repeatedly here that if Easter (the event) is true, Easter (the holiday) isn’t: he is risen, risen indeed, everywhere and always.  But it’s still nice to sing those songs…it’s nice to sing my fool heart out over something I hope for, something I believe is true on a long enough timeline even if the details feel much more provisional.