“Behold, I make all things new.” -Jesus the Christ
Do you remember (either the book or the movie) in The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, the part where the thaw begins? Do you remember later, when new life sweeps through the corrupted castle, bringing to warming that which was frozen? Do you remember that none of this is possible unless Aslan, the Christ figure, is risen from the dead?
We live in a world of frozen statues, of people stuck: in addiction, pain, poverty, shame, boredom, emptiness. Behind the carnival-like atmosphere of our heavily medicated culture, there are honest moments when many people realize that life’s not working well for them, that being the author of their own story isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I’m picturing the breath of God passing through the world this Easter, bringing a thaw to some frozen hearts. The thaw will result in lots of beautiful things: There will be dancing, reconciliation, forgiveness, new meaning, economic empowerment, health clinics built, clean water provided, addictions broken. It won’t happen with the waving of a wand. For most, it will happen like the slow thaw of winter (and as we know in our part of the world, it can be S-L-O-W) But whether it happens slowly or quickly, the important thing is that it’s happening: hope is displacing emptiness. It’s happening in Uganda, Rwanda, the streets of Seattle, whole households, marriages, and individual hearts.
This is very good news. Jesus invited people into God’s warming story wherever he went, and he’s invited us. What’s more, we’re not only recipients of God’s warming breath, we’re invited to participate with him in heralding the end of winter… embodying that thaw through our own acts of justice and mercy, and inviting people into springtime.
Who will you invite into God’s story this Easter?
Seriously–who will you invite?