Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us,
let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us,
and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us,
fixing our eyes upon Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith,
who for the joy set before him endured the cross…
Hebrews 12:1-2a
I am a sucker for reunions. A look at my calendar, and you might say I’m addicted to them. Last week, my last class of fourth graders, now graduating seniors, had a mini-reunion. Come June, I’ll spend a few days chilling with my high school besties for the first time since – well, you really don’t need to know how long it’s been. In July, we’ll spend seven days at the mother of all reunions – Family Camp in Idaho with Hiram’s side of the family. And over Labor Day, more than two dozen of my crazy rellies will willingly spend Saturday and Sunday in a cabin with only one bathroom.
Easter morning at church seemed like a reunion, too, with the Adams back in these parts. Ingrid served up pancakes during brunch. Allan played his steel drum and rocked out with the worship band. Tears came to my eyes (surprise, surprise) while I watched their daughters talking a mile a minute with old friends.
The sense of reunion grew stronger during worship. The names of other dear church friends who have moved away, along with memories of saints no longer living, came to mind. Sunday school teachers from my childhood, the retired minister who became our neighbor and faithfully visited Dad for years, the pastor of our tiny South Dakota congregation, and the ranch families who were part of it all seemed to hover at the edges of my vision.
Almost, they seemed to stand beside me. Almost, I saw their faces glow in the reflection of the risen Christ. Almost, I heard them shout and whoop and holler, along with our entire GCC family, “He is risen! He is risen indeed! He is risen! He is risen indeed!”
Almost, it seemed, we saw Jesus this Easter morning, gloriously wounded and gloriously whole. In his presence, the miles and years separating us from dear friends and family, living and dead, vanished. Wrinkled faces grew smooth. Limbs gained strength. Minds cleared. Children danced. My father walked, steady and strong.
Our hearts leaped as we stood, united, on the precipice of the empty tomb. In the presence of great sacrificial love and deep magic, we could almost touch the nail-scarred hands. We almost sensed great and final reunion yet to come. For a moment, on Easter morning, we almost tasted heaven.
Oh, glorious, glorious, glorious day!
