The Easter It Snowed

But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing, you may have life in his name. –John 20:31 NIV 

Easter for me as a child meant a new outfit, which included a spring-like dress, shiny new shoes and a frilly Easter bonnet that would give Diane, the girly-girl of our class, a run for her money. Easter was time to put away the heavy, dark winter coat and bring out the lightweight, pastel-colored one. It also meant brightly dyed eggs, jelly beans, chocolate, and homemade bread and Easter cheese, which we called cirak

One year my family spent Easter weekend at our cabin in the mountains near Cook Forest. Easter was early that year. We’d found a small country church a few miles away, so Mom packed our Easter clothes. I grew up in southwestern Pennsylvania, where the weather is much more spring-like even in late March than in the mountains. We awoke that Sunday morning to blowing snow and frigid temperatures. I shivered all through the church service in my fancy dress, white anklets, patent leather shoes, and short jacket. I never forgot the Easter it snowed. 

Now that I live in the western Pennsylvania mountains, I know not to put away the winter wardrobe too soon. The daffodils will bow under the snow, and tree leaves won’t appear until mid-May. It doesn’t matter whether Easter comes at the end of March or the end of April—we still can get snow. 

I grew up associating Easter with spring and with blooming flowers and greening trees. Now I know a different truth: Sometimes winter doesn’t want to let go.

Focusing on a new Easter outfit or the long-anticipated arrival of spring, however, is focusing on the wrong thing. It’s easy to forget what Easter is really all about, which is the celebration of Jesus’ resurrection.

Because He conquered death, we, too, can conquer death. “I am the resurrection and the life,” He told Martha before bringing her dead brother Lazarus back to life. “He who believes in Me, though he may die, shall live. And whoever lives and believes in Me shall never die. Do you believe this?” (John 11:25 NIV)

Easter means much more than a goodie basket and competing with the prettiest girl in class for the frilliest dress. Easter means much more than warm weather, flowers, and green grass. 

It means the winter of the soul has lost its grip. 

Because Jesus conquered death, I can experience an internal, eternal spring: “Now we look inside, and what we see is that anyone united with the Messiah gets a fresh start, is created new. The old life is gone; a new life burgeons! Look at it!” (2 Corinthians 5:17, The Message)

Snow on Easter? So what? It’s always spring inside my heart.

Lord, let me see the flowers beneath the snow. Amen. 

Read and reflect on John 20

From God, Me, & a Cup of  Tea for the Seasons© 2018 Michele Huey. All rights reserved. Used with permission.

Silent Saturday

 

Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning. –Psalm 30:5 (KJV)

Today is what I call “Silent Saturday”—the day between Good Friday and Easter Sunday.

As a child I faithfully attended Holy Thursday and Good Friday services. One of the things I remember about this time right before Easter is that no music was played in church. The organ was silent, as were the bells and other instruments. Songs were sung a cappella.

This period of silence impressed upon me the solemnness of the time when God’s Son was betrayed, condemned, crucified, and buried, paying the price for the sins of all mankind from the dawn of creation to the end of time.

I knew, of course, what would follow—Easter! The day Jesus burst out of that Mid-Eastern tomb in all His glory—alive forever! The return of music! The return of hope and joy.

Little, if anything, is said in the Gospels about “Silent Saturday.” For the Jews of that time, it was the Sabbath, a day of rest. A day no work was to be done.

We read nothing of what Jesus’ followers did that day.

We can only imagine what they felt: Grief. Hopelessness. Despair. Terror. If the Jewish authorities could do this to Jesus, who performed all those miracles and claimed to be God’s Son, what would they do to His disciples? So they hid, their dreams for the Kingdom and their places in it shattered, their future uncertain. The plan, they thought, went horribly, horribly wrong.

Or did it?

They had no idea that actually everything was going wonderfully, impossibly, exactly according to plan—God’s plan. They didn’t know they were in the waiting room—not the hiding place—between deep despair and unbridled joy. Between apparent defeat and glorious triumph. Between terror and a holy boldness that would set the world on fire and launch the Jesus Movement.

But, oh! That first Easter morning—who could even begin to describe the wonder they experienced at the empty tomb, the joy at seeing Jesus alive? It was exceedingly, abundantly, above all they could have imagined.

But they didn’t know all that on Silent Saturday.

What about you?

Are you in a “Silent Saturday” time of your life? Are you dealing with grief, loss, bitter disappointment, discouragement, night-long weeping? Are you scraping at the bottom of the empty barrel of hope? Fighting despair and feel like you’re losing the battle? Thinking that your dreams, your future, are sealed up in a tomb of decay?

Hang on, dear one loved by God. Saturday will pass. The night of weeping will end. The Son will burst over the horizon, His rays chasing away despair and flooding your soul with hope and joy.

It’s Silent Saturday, but get ready, Pilgrim. Sunday’s coming.

Thank You, God, for Easter, when hope springs eternal. Amen.

Read and reflect on John 16:16–33.

From God, Me & a Cup of Tea for the Seasons, © 2018 Michele Huey. All rights reserved.