The Proof of the Resurrection
How do we know that the resurrection is true? It is a question that Christians wrestle with and are asked every Easter. How can we know that this story of Jesus being raised by God after being dead for days is true?
There are many good spirited Christians who attempt to provide a material response, or proof, to this question. They might point to an empty tomb. They might point to the stories in the Bible of first-hand witnesses. They might point to some relic of the past or some physical location to bolster the truth claim that Jesus was raised. Given our current levels of suspicion and skepticism, it seems that even if there was video footage of the empty tomb there would not be universal acceptance of the resurrection. And when we think about it, more people have converted to Christianity who have not seen an empty tomb than those who have seen an empty tomb. This suggests that the early Christians understood something that we may have forgotten: We know the resurrection is true and that Jesus is alive not because the tomb is empty but because we are not afraid of death.
St. Athanasius of Alexandra makes this claim in his book “On the Incarnation of the Word” when he says, “A very strong proof of this destruction of death and its conquest by the cross is supplied by a present fact, namely this. All the disciples of Christ despise death; they take the offensive against it and, instead of fearing it, by the sign of the cross and by faith in Christ trample on it as on something dead.”
The Easter is the season we are invited to witness that death has died on the cross and therefore no longer has any power. As Paul said in 1 Corinthians 15:55, “Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” It is in these days we come to witness that in the death of Jesus, the power of death is destroyed.
Christ leaving an empty tomb may change your mind, but Christ defeating death will change your heart.
Running From What You Do Not Fear
The past several years I have found spiritual companionship with the desert spirituality of the late antiquity period. I am by no means a scholar on this topic or the complexity of the people we call the “Desert Mothers and Fathers.” Much of what we have of their sayings is odd in the surface unless you spend some time with their worldview. It has taken me a while just to begin to make sense of some of these what look to be odd sayings. For instance:
Abba Nisterus the Great was walking in the desert with a brother and when they saw a serpent they ran away. The brother said, “Were you afraid, too, father?” The old man said, “I am not afraid, child, but it’s good for me to flee since then I won’t have to flee the spirit of vainglory.”
Abba Nisterus ran away from something he was not afraid of, but others were. Had he not run away from the serpent, then when Abba Nisterus caught up with the brother who did run away, he might unintentionally make the brother feel less or shameful for being afraid of a serpent. And so, Abba Nisterus runs away from the serpent so that when he faces the brother he will not have to face the prideful idea that he is better or more brave than the brother. It is easier to run from a snake than from pride (aka: vainglory).
It is common to run from what you fear. That makes a biological sense. What does not make much sense at all is running from what you do not fear. Why would anyone run from that which they are not afraid? So that we do not grow prideful. When we are full of pride (in spirit of vainglory) then we begin to think less of others. We begin to consider how brave we are as others cower and run.
For Nisterus, not running from a serpent would mean running toward pride.
And being full of pride can really hurt you.
Quarantined, Set Apart, Sacred
Maybe you have been thinking about the idea of "being set apart" these days.
In religious terms, being "set apart" is another way of thinking about what is "sacred" or what is "holy." The sacred or the holy is that which is set apart. For some reason, I forget that being set apart does not mean it is better, but it is reserved for a certain purpose. Thus, we do not have tailgates in the Sanctuary, not because the Sanctuary is better than other places and cannot be “tainted by a party”, but because that place is set apart for certain purposes.
What might it look like to consider this time where we are all set apart from one another as a sacred time? Many sacred moments in the Bible are scary. Maybe you can recall stories of humans encountering the sacred and holy and the words come to the human, "do not be afraid." This current set apart time is uniquely scary, for many of us and we are trying to not be afraid.
So to recap, we are set apart. We are a little fearful. We have voices reminding us to no be afraid. We are forced to listen more closely and gracefully than ever before. We are being called to do things in a new way.
This may not be the ideal or dreamy picture we imagine, but is it possible that this time (like all time) is still sacred?
May our time be sacred - even at 6 feet apart or digitally.

Be the change by Jason Valendy is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.