I can remember when it was finally time to share that our Eastertide secret pregnancy wasn’t going to be one filled with hope and new life, but grief. I can remember the gasp of joy as I shared with my congregation that we were pregnant and the gasps of grief as I shared that we miscarried.
Since that season, Eastertide will always have a tinge of grief in it. It seems strange for this season (the one where we know that death has been overcome) should be clouded by grief. And yet, maybe this year we know this more truly and more deeply than we ever have before.
We hope and then we see the reminder of the number of people who have lost their lives and hear predictions that those numbers will be even higher.
We find courage and then we see the rate of employment reach records we haven’t seen since the Great Depression.
We find calling and then we see food banks with lines that are two to three hours long and people waiting only to find out that there is not enough food.
Maybe this Eastertide, we lament and grieve together. Maybe our voices can join in crying out “Why, God, why?”
Life and death side by side all through Eastertide.
Maybe life becomes clearer when death is close by.
Maybe life and death residing together draw us closer to the One who has experienced both.