Easter Jeans - Day 3

Preparation > Obligation

Welcome to the Easter Jeans reflection mini-series. I’m so glad you’re here! I’m trying something new. You may read the post in full below, or if you’d rather, you can also listen to it in audio format by clicking here: Easter Jeans Day 3

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“This man truly was the Son of God!” - Matthew 27:54b

Preparation > Obligation

Every year around this time I find myself wondering what the day after the crucifixion was like. After the trauma of Friday but before the open tomb, what happened on the day in between?

I can’t help but think about the ways I’ve locked arms with the mob, choosing self-preservation over compassion. I identify with the disciples, who had their reasons and fled the scene. But maybe if I squint hard enough, I can also see myself huddled at the cross with the fierce women who stayed, the faithful few who sobbed and grieved, making a scene, I’m sure. Eventually, they walked back home, traumatized and exhausted.

A friend once told me at the funeral of her young daughter, “Today I’m numb. I’m in the eye of the storm and it’s strangely calm, but I know I still have to pass through the other side.”

The day things get quiet again, when the company returns home and the unstoppable details of regular life show their faces – the dishes crusted over and piled high, the kids still hungry like clockwork, the exhausted body that reaches for the mail, folds the socks, fills a cup with water from the tap and wonders why the world is still spinning. I imagine that’s a painful day.

When Jesus passed from life to death, creation wept in unison. Darkness fell, the temple veil tore, rocks split and the earth quaked. The moment he died, others rose up from their own sealed tombs – a stunning picture of salvation. This apocalyptic scene must have grabbed the attention of Jesus’ executioners. Did they lie awake that night, sleepless from what they had done?

And what about the next day? I feel empty just thinking about it. The ones who loved him didn’t know what was yet to come, a reality both terrifying and heartbreaking. God was still on the throne, but the Spirit hadn’t descended. How could the world not have reverberated with despair? Did the leaves rustle? Did the birds still sing?

I wonder.

It’s the day before Easter, with no catchy name or go-to rituals, just the lonely stall-pattern of “not yet,” and the consolation of promised redemption.

For now, we give ourselves permission to simply feel what we feel amid the bigness of the story. The day might be quiet or loud, bustling or contemplative. There’s no pressure to conjure up some outsized grief. There’s no secret ban on Netflix and no punishment for laughter, fun, or neon egg-dyeing kits.

Today we can choose to simply be present in our actual lives, preparing our hearts for a tomorrow we can trust.

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One Simple Way to Rethink Easter

For me, Easter looks a bit different each year. This year, our church is hosting an Easter brunch during our regular service, so that our friends from Work Release can celebrate with us. Hopefully, we have all been intentional with our guest list. We’re ready to walk into the ordinary struggle of reality and offer the embrace of love - the spirit of Easter Jeans.

The celebration is coming, but for now, we wait. And perhaps, we bake. I’ll be on the hunt for a coffee cake recipe of some sort. I also make this raspberry cream pie every Easter. It’s simple, delicious, and hallelujah, it is pink. (For extra Easter Jeans vibes, bake an extra cake or pie - whatever you might be working on - and deliver it to a neighbor or friend!)