It has been said so many times that it is in the realm of cliche that we Christians are an Easter people. We are a people of the Resurrection. Christ is Risen, Hallelujah!
What does that mean by the way? If I came up to you on a Friday night at the pub, or Saturday morning at your kid's soccer practice and asked you about this resurrection thing, what would you say? Can you tell me, or any one for that matter, how the resurrection has changed your life?
We Christians define ourselves by the resurrection, but a lot of us struggle with how it works. Was it a bodily resurrection, a vision, a hallucination, a massive conspiracy? Do we experience the power of this moment in the moments of our days?
I think that it is less important to nail down what exactly happened on Easter morning than it is to look at it's result. Disciples who were afraid to step outside saw Jesus come among them. They touched him, and even Thomas who doubted had his moment. Two grieving followers met him unknowing on a road and were both rebuked and built up. So much so that they ran all the way back to Jerusalem to tell the others.
Perhaps being an Easter people means that we struggle with what it all means, that we lock ourselves away, or leave to go home and encounter our Christ in a way that changes us forever. Perhaps it means that we don't need answers at that soccer practice as much as the openness to the possibility that we might meet God on the field.
The stories of the resurrection are not tidy stories of Jesus coming back to pass on the torch before he retires to the big chair in the sky. They are messy tales of fear and doubt, wonder and love. For me being an Easter person doesn't mean having all the answers in a box, but rather having a heart brimming with questions, and those questions leading me to live differently, whether in church on Sunday or at soccer, or even the pub.
Christ is Risen
He is Risen indeed, Hallelujah.