Easter is Homecoming

Easter is Homecoming

I’ve been a nomad most of my life. As a child, I learned to pack and unpack life, following my dad wherever his career took him. Uprooted-ness was loss accrued from left-behind places, instability a debt to pay down. Even after my husband and I married and began our family, we didn’t stay put. When the company offered my husband a transfer to Toronto six years ago, we bit at the lure of adventure.

Ours is a good life here, but it is also a rented one. No permanent address. No permanence, really, and I can’t help but grieve the temporariness of it all. Will home always be this contingent? This provisional?

Rereading the gospel accounts of Jesus’ last meal with his disciples, I’m struck by his words: “I have earnestly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer.” Of all that could have occupied his thoughts then, Jesus had been thinking of this table, this meal which he knows anticipates another feast—an eternal one. “I tell you that from now on I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes.” His friends and his betrayer alike raise their glasses, and suddenly, it’s upon me how Easter is a homecoming. Jesus dies and is raised so that the curse of temporariness can be undone—rolled back like the stone, folded up like grave clothes.

The Easter feast announces God’s children have come home.

Easter Is A Call

Easter Is A Call

Easter is Story

Easter is Story

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