Dear Church: Why I'm Not There This Easter...

It’s my first Easter Sunday in 21 years not sitting in a pew.

It’s not because I can’t.

I’m not sick.

I’m not working.

I’m just not going.

I won’t hear those same songs.

I won’t read that same passage of Scripture.

I won’t put on my Easter dress that I picked out last week, just for the occasion.

It’s always the same.

I know what I’m missing.

So why is it that minutes after I awake I feel this pounding in my heart?

This pounding that echoes for miles in an empty space?

I feel myself weighing the options before me.

I could have just enough time to make it if I hurry.

I feel this need to run in there and join the multitude celebrating a risen Savior.

But then something happens.

As I wrestle with the thought of actually attending,

I realize it.

There’s a reason for that vast empty space in my chest where longing echoes.

I can’t deny the sound it makes and the pain that ensues every time I walk into that entrance with six doors.

Maybe Easter is nice.

Everyone is joyous and celebrating.

Whether that be from the idea that everlasting life is theirs or the fact that they also get to enjoy all the chocolate and jellybeans later.

But in my opinion, there are a few things wrong with Easter…

Every church pushes members to invite more visitors for this week.

Just invite two.

One family member and one friend.

Let’s invite them to the celebration.

Who wouldn’t want to see this picture perfect event?

But don’t let them come next Sunday or the Sunday after that.

They will hear similar songs.

They will see similar people.

But the atmosphere is different.

You are no longer the precious visitor they want to make feel welcomed so you can get saved.

You are just a body sitting in the back.

And you are surrounded by other lifeless bodies as well.

This wasn’t the same party you attended last Easter.

Because life gets hard.

The fire of faith can flicker.

The mundane of every week can grow stronger.

But you see this and you wonder, why would I ever want this?

Could it be that there is such a focus on Easter that what’s forgotten is everything else Jesus did before that,

His life that he beckons others to follow?

This is the man who shouted at the holy people,

The people with religious laws and ways of speaking.

This is the man who made it a point to not eat dinner with church members,

But went outside and ate with sinners.

Because it is not the healed that need saving, but the sick and the dying.

This is the man who reached out and touched people in their broken places.

He knew their stories.

He knew their pain.

He knew where it is they needed to be freed and saved.

He cried with those mourning

He fed the thousands that were hungry.

He touched and healed on the set apart Sabbath day,  

Showing what it really means to be holy.

He is also the man who begged and pleaded with God to take away the cup of despair: the cross.

He wanted another way.

He didn’t want the pain.

He even began sweating drops of blood.

The very humanity pouring out from his fleshly pores on that day.

But all we celebrate is the man with glowing white robes on Easter Sunday.

I get it.

It is more lovely to focus on such a joyous occasion than it is to focus on the part which involves touching the sick, eating with broken people, and taking a stand and screaming at those who say they are holy.

But if life was lived in this way, don’t you think you would have more people attending on Easter Sunday?

It’s just a thought.

A simple idea.

And please don’t hear me as a person screaming shame and throwing large boulders at church members.

I’m not.

I have been there.

But being where I now am,

I can’t help but imagine there is something wrong here.

There’s a reason people like me are not coming into those doors this Sunday.

And I think there is also a reason the people there today are feeling something missing next week.

I realize I’m a speculator from afar.

I also realize that from experience, my voice won’t get very far.

But I just wanted to share:

Dear church,

There’s a reason I didn’t come to your Easter service this year.

Sincerely,

Just one more person