Confession: I Miss You After Easter

Confession: I Miss You After Easter

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Even though I have known you, I often miss you after Easter, Lord.

I am on the Road to Emmaus. I walk with you, talk with you. I hear great truth. I listen to how the entire narrative fits together. I hear sermons. I read books. My knowledge grows and grows among the faithful until I know more about you than ever before. But I fail to notice that you are walking with me, that you have been not only trying to teach me but to have a relationship with me. I miss you after Easter, Lord.

I am Mary Magdelene. I am on the way to do my duty, and I see only a gardener. I barely look in his eyes, and I didn’t even look at his face because he’s clearly a worker. He is bent over, laboring at something. There are lawns to be mowed, hotel rooms to be cleaned, crops to be picked, or trash to be hauled. The gardener is likely just an immigrant, I think, maybe even undocumented. My status is above his. I ignore him. I miss you after Easter, Lord.

I am Thomas. I doubt. Most of those I trust and love in the world seem to have had an experience with you, but I cannot connect with it. They seem so passionate in their belief. I am happy for them, but I am cold in the presence of their heat. It’s fine for them, but I cannot trust again, I cannot risk what I have, I cannot believe, or will not. Through their foolish testimony they have shown me the way to believe. But I do not. I miss you after Easter, Lord.

I am of the goats. I am religious: I give. I serve. I sing. I attend. But none of this changes how I live the rest of the week. I’ve not seen you, Lord; if I did see you I think it would change things. I have been looking–but never see you in the way I am looking. I’ve never seen you hungry or thirsty or an immigrant or naked or sick or in prison. If I saw you in those situations, I would help, honestly! I miss you after Easter, Lord.

I confess I miss you after Easter, Lord. May I have a true relationship with you, not just learn facts about you after Easter, Lord. May I see you serving behind the scenes like a gardener, and worship you after Easter, Lord. May I find a way to believe and be blessed for not seeing and yet believing after Easter, Lord. May I see you in the least of these, as you said you’d be, and therefore be counted among the righteous sheep after Easter, Lord.

For you have risen indeed, if I would only not miss you this year after Easter.


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