In the hours, days, months and for some, even years after a death, it can feel as though there is a complete disconnect between the world and the grieving person; a separation that can never be healed.  Slowly, hesitantly, friends may try to invite the person out or encourage them, “Just do something!  Anything to try to end this paralysis.  He is gone but you are not!  You still have a life to live!  There is more to this life than grief!  Don’t lose yourself to it….please?”

 

At first, there will be resistance, invitations and activities seem utterly impossible.  Time seems to stand still.  There is nothing but one breath….and the next.  The invitations will have to be given many times before they can be heard.  But slowly, there is an inch of movement, a gentle seeping of light between the crack of the closed curtains.  An indrawn breath.  A desire to try. It is not yet fully light, but perhaps dawn is approaching.  

 

Resurrection doesn’t often look like a body missing from an empty tomb, it certainly doesn’t often look like stones rolled away and angels arriving with startling announcements.  More often, resurrection comes like a slow dawning of being able to start to move, hesitantly, carefully, one step at a time towards a new life.  Resurrection was dramatic once, but it doesn’t have to be.  Resurrection can be a slow awakening.

 

This is the moment when the faithful women, who stayed with Jesus to the end, crept out of their hiding place, carrying spices and anointing oils, determined to visit the tomb and do what was customary for their friend.  In this moment, their voices are hushed, their footsteps careful, they keep to the shadows, fearful of discovery.  They carry their grief with them, together with their oils, but they have left the house, they have taken the first step…and it is a step from darkness towards the dawn.

 

Entering the silent garden, a few quiet birds may be waking up and letting out a sleepy chirp but the dew still lies heavy on the ground and their garments are wet from it.  There are still a few stars visible in the slowly lightening sky.  Silently, they move forwards, taking one careful step from the moment of their grief towards….what?  They do not know.  Probably more grief, more confirmation that he is gone, maybe the guards will even turn them away.  But still, they move forwards – not knowing that in fact, they are moving from death towards new life.

 

Christians believe that instead of more loss, a shocking sight met the women, the stone rolled away, the tomb empty, an angel sitting atop it saying, “He is not here, He is risen!”  But this is such a scandalous, utterly ridiculous claim!  No one comes back after death!  Death is final, death is the end.  They must have been making it up, surely it’s just a fable that only the gullible will believe…

 

But even as anyone who has been bereaved will know, eventually new life follows death.  It is different of course, but it is new life just the same.  Perhaps this new life will simply look like getting out of bed in the morning, cooking a meal, going out with friends even for an hour.  Maybe new life might even mean taking hesitant steps toward something new… a look between two people, a question in the eyes, an uncertainty that might mean…something?  Or might not… but they’re ready to try; they’re ready to ask the question.  New life might be as simple as being able to take a hesitating step towards it.

 

Of course, new life does not mean that the trauma of death is gone, erased by what comes next.  Mary will always remember watching her son die, the disciples will always remember the shattering of their hopes, the women will always remember the courage it took to approach the tomb.  Grief doesn’t vanish with new life, it’s just that new life gradually grows around the grief, encompassing it, validating it, and expanding outwards.

 

So, after the desolation of Good Friday, the darkness and loss of Holy Saturday, always comes Easter Sunday.  Today, Christians around the world will be shouting, “He is Risen!”, church bells will echo over towns that are trying to sleep (good luck with that, sorry/not sorry everyone!) and flowers will fill the churches as we celebrate that utterly mysterious (and controversial) event that is Christ’s resurrection.

 

Don’t ask us how it happened, we don’t know.  Some things can’t be explained other than by faith, sometimes doubt, often questions, and a bit more faith.  But after death comes resurrection.  This is the mystery of life.