Finding Easter

Sometimes it takes something in the news to awaken my faith.

Such was the case last night. Like many people, I entered fully into Holy Week, particularly Good Friday and Easter, but the services I attended and the thoughts and prayers I offered only seemed to skim the surface this year. The state of the world right now has made it difficult for me to see how an empty tomb has made any difference.

But then I watched the news last night and heard of a tragedy that happened at a beach in Florida. A strong rip current was carrying two children out to sea and their father ran in and tried to save them. He was successful, in that both children survived, but he died saving them. The anguish I heard through his wife’s tears ripped away the calluses on my heart, and this morning I can’t help but think about the impact that moment will have on those children for the rest of their lives. They were drowning and their father came and rescued them only to die doing so.

Suddenly, Easter came alive for me. As I thought about those children living in the shadows of what their father did, I thought about the shadow of Easter and how I, too, live because someone came to my rescue and saved me. Those words can sometimes sound formulaic or trite, particularly when they’re wrapped in annual traditions, beloved hymns, and colorful outfits, but the incident in the news helped me find the greater depth I sought and needed this Easter.

Like the man’s children, I want to remember the life I’ve been given and the cost at which it came.