Ken’s e-Pistle

March 27, 2024

It is hard to believe that Easter is here!  It seems to be few weeks earlier this year than in years past, but that may be just my perception. I used to know the formula for figuring when Easter would fall but, like many things, I have cleaned it out of the attic of my mind.  It seemed that such knowledge on my part would neither help nor hinder the Kingdom so I dismissed it to the gentle waters of oblivion.

Each Easter is special but this one especially so.  You have voted to receive your next pastor.  Few things inspire hope on the horizon as much as this providential promise of Nicole’s coming into your midst, along with her young family.  The excitement will build as she finishes her dual degrees at Columbia Theological Seminary, receives her ordination to the Ministry of Word and Sacrament at her home church in Arcadia, FL, and completes her final obligations of Internship at Decatur Presbyterian Church. For her, it’s breathtaking!  It is the culmination of years of work and call. Things are becoming real!

On our side of the mountain, spring is now in full swing.  Azaleas are beginning to bloom and the bulbs I planted last fall are slipping off their slumber and greeting the warm sun.  New growth is showing on the hydrangeas and the Japanese maples are sending out tentative buds.  Bradford pears, first harbingers of spring for us, are shedding snowy blooms all around, giving us a good laugh at our conditioned fears that a late blizzard has afflicted us.  All is good.

I still remember my last Easter sermon, though.  I delivered it in the midst of family crisis.  Miss Vicki had just fallen down the stairs of our house and broke almost every rib. She was taken by helicopter to Erlanger Baroness Hospital in Chattanooga. It was a long drive from Blue Ridge and I didn’t know what to expect upon my arrival.  As a retired Trauma Chaplain at a similar institution, I knew all to well that no information is given to families in transit.  Needless to say, many prayers were offered on that long stretch of road. And somehow, in the midst of anxious driving, Easter showed up.

I shared that I learned in a new way that Easter isn’t just about bunnies, eggs, new clothes and a big dinner.  Sure, that is often our perception but it is not whole.  This year, Easter will come once again in the muddy fields of Ukraine, the streets of Haiti, the rolling hills and seaside towns of Gaza, and in the grief-stricken homes of Moscow.  Easter will come in the trauma centers, the homeless shelters and the hard streets of our cities.  Yes, even Dalton.  Easter is not just the good news of resurrection for the faithful in church, it is also the good news of God’s love in the midst of public and private hells where, if we are honest, we must bewail our complicity.

We, in the profession, have a term for some of our members.  We call them CEOs.  It stands for Christmas and Easter Only.  They tend to show up for the Holy Days when expected but are otherwise absent.  Their theology could best be described as “God in a Box,” where they have easy explanations and solutions for complex problems. It tends to work well until it doesn’t.

The problem with God in a Box is that any God who is small enough to keep in a box is not large enough to address our tragedies and befuddlements when they inevitably come.  Hence, for me, Easter, Christmas, and all of the other days, both holy and profane, are days in which I must encounter God and allow God to encounter me.

I bid you a meaningful Holy Week and a joyous Easter!