When we think about it, it is obvious. If there had been no Easter, there would have been no Good Friday. If something profound had not happened on the third day following the crucifixion (the details of which have been lost in the rich variety of testimonies about Christ being alive), no one would have noted the death of one more unruly Galilean nailed to a cross along with so many others. 

And if there had not been a Good Friday, there would not have been a Maundy Thursday, any remembrance of a Last Supper. There must have been a lot of times when friends gathered to break bread and drink some wine. What would have made this meal in an upper room any different if it had not been for what happened afterward in the garden and then before Pilate? 

And if there had been no Easter, no Good Friday, and no Last Supper, then Palm Sunday would have been just a slight disturbance along the streets in Jerusalem as some “hill people” acted unruly, shouting and waving palm branches as a peasant rode on a donkey. At best, it only would have been a misguided celebration of a false hope. 

Lent . . . there would have been no reason to have a season of preparation if there was nothing for which to prepare. This oldest and holiest season on the Christian calendar was set as a 40-day period during which adults preparing for baptism would fast, pray, and study the scripture to get themselves ready. But obviously, no Easter, no Lent. 

And to conclude the point: no Easter, no Christmas. What difference does the birth of a baby in an animal shelter behind an inn make if there is no story to tell about the child in adulthood? There were all sorts of people of meager means trudging about the countryside like Mary and Joseph, often caught off guard by the realities of the day. 

In our normal human experience we can say the obvious: there is no death without birth. You have to be born in order to die, that is clear. But in our Christian experience we also can assert that there is no birth without death, there is no story of the birth of Jesus without the stories of his crucifixion and resurrection. In fact, it is all one story . . . the birth, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ is a single theme, with the peculiarity that in telling it time runs backward. It is the resurrection that gives meaning to the crucifixion, which gives meaning to the birth. 

So, in this Lenten season we, like the catechumens of old, prepare ourselves for Easter. It is the defining moment of our Christian faith. There are certain things we can do that the faithful of previous generations have told us help to sensitize us to God’s message: pray, read the Bible, fast, attend worship, share our faith with others, and receive Holy Communion. 

These actions, in and of themselves, do not save us. There is no merit in praying, for example, imagining that logging so many minutes a day in prayer somehow will impress God. Rather, to be in an attitude of prayer really is a discipline we assume so that we might be more receptive to the impulses of God’s love. And, so it is for the other “means of grace,” as the Church has called them.  

Therefore, now hear the formal invitation: “I invite you, in the name of the Church, to observe a holy Lent by self-examination and repentance, by prayer, fasting, and self-denial, and by reading and meditating on God’s Holy Word.” As we engage in these faithful disciplines as we move forward toward Easter, may we better understand our story as it flows backward from the defining moment of Easter to give meaning to all that has gone before. 

Peace,
Phil Blackwell