There’s something I always tell couples as I work with them to plan their weddings, “No matter what goes wrong, you will be married by the end of things.”
Holy Week is always a busy one for us pastor-folks. Some of it is because there’s a ton of different things to plan. Some of it is because the things you plan are emotionally draining. Some of it is because there’s almost always an unexpected illness either in the family or in the church. Much of it, though, is our own dang fault.
Easter is one of the big two days, the days when you’ll see people you’ve never met and might never meet again. It’s the day when you have the highest visibility and the highest stakes if you mess it up. It needs to be perfect. The bulletin has to be reviewed to death. The sermon has to be rewritten and discarded at least once. The written prayers need to be juuuust right. Don’t forget to double check that someone remembered to roll the stone away from the tomb. It has to be perfect. Because this is your chance, and you can either rise to the occasion or you become a failure in the eyes of not only the congregation, but Jesus himself, too.
I generalize, of course, but sometimes we want to be so good that we miss the point entirely. We’re too wrapped up in making sure every hair is in place and every lily sufficiently watered.
And that stinks.
Because Easter is the most fun day in church. I know Christmas is good and all, but Easter is a party. Easter is warmth and growth and lengthening days. Easter is families and bow ties on kids. Easter is a feeling like there’s an undefinable buzzing in the air around us. And after all the time thinking about death and penitence during Lent, we’re able to let loose and exhale! We can breathe out the life that we’d been holding in for so long.
No matter what, Easter will happen. If my sermon is a complete flop, Easter will still happen. If I fumble the words of the Lord’s Prayer, Easter will still happen. If I catch my sleeve on fire, Easter will still happen. There’s nothing I can do to stop it. It will happen if the hymns are a resounding triumph or if they’re a cacophonous mess. I could even stand there at the tomb trying to push that boulder back in place, and I would fail.
Do I want Easter to go well? Yes.
Am I still guilty of feeling like it needs to be perfect? (*sigh*) Yes.
Does any of that matter even a little bit? No!
Easter’s on its way and is as a force as undeniable as life itself.
Ready or not, here it comes.
Peace,
Rev. Jeff Fox-Kline
Twelve Corners Presbyterian Church