Richard Rohr identifies death and resurrection as the universal pattern of Reality: 

Christianity—as well as Buddhism, other religions, and nature-based systems—suggests that the pattern of transformation, the pattern that connects, the life that Reality offers us is not death avoided, but always death transformed. In other words, the only trustworthy pattern of spiritual transformation is death and resurrection. Christians learn to submit to trials because Jesus told us that we must “carry the cross” with him (Matthew 16:24; Mark 8:34; Luke 14:27). Buddhists do it because the Buddha very directly said that “life is suffering.” Buddhism teaches us how to skillfully discern the source of suffering, detach from our expectations and resentments, and let go of illusion. 

Death and life are two sides of the same coin; we cannot have one without the other. Each time we choose to surrender, each time we trust the dying, our faith is led to a deeper level, and we discover a Larger Self underneath. We decide not to push to the front of the line, and something much better happens in the back of the line. We let go of narcissistic anger, and we find that we start feeling much happier. We surrender our need to control our partner, and finally the relationship blossoms. Yet each time it is a choice—and each time it is a kind of dying. It seems we only know what life is when we know what death is. 

The mystics and great saints were those who had learned to trust and allow this pattern, and often said in effect, “What did I ever lose by dying?” Or try Paul’s famous one-liner: “For me to live is Christ and to die is gain” (Philippians 1:21). Now even scientific studies reveal the same universal pattern. Things change and grow by dying to their present state, but each time it is a risk. We always wonder, “Will it work this time?” So many academic disciplines are coming together, each in its own way, to say there’s a constant movement of loss and renewal at work in this world at every level. It seems to be the pattern of all growth and evolution. To be alive means to surrender to this inevitable flow. It’s the same pattern in every atom, every human relationship, and in every galaxy. Indigenous peoples, Hindu gurus, Buddha, Moses, Muhammad, and Jesus all saw it clearly in human history and named it as a kind of “necessary dying.” 

If this pattern is true, it has been true all the time and everywhere. Such seeing did not just start two thousand years ago. All of us have to learn to let go of something smaller so something bigger can happen. But that’s not a religion—it’s highly visible truth. It is the Way Reality Works. 

Resurrection Is Assured

Richard Rohr explains how the resurrection offers us hope, especially in challenging times: 

I often wonder why so much of human life seems so futile, so tragic, so short, and so sad. If Christ is risen, why do people die before they begin to truly live? Why has there been nonstop war? Why are so many people imprisoned unjustly? Why are the poor oppressed? Why do we destroy so many of our relationships? If Christ is risen, why is there so much suffering? What is God up to? It really doesn’t make any logical sense. Is the resurrection something that just happened once, in his body, but not in ours? 

I believe the resurrection of Christ is saying that the final judgment has already happened. It’s nothing we need to fear. It’s nothing we need to avoid or deny. God’s final judgment is that God will have the last word! Easter reveals that there are no dead ends; ultimately, nothing is going to end in tragedy and crucifixion. Of course we look around us, at history and at life in its daily moments and it seems, “No, no, that isn’t true.” And yet, ever and again, here and there, more than we suspect, new life breaks through for those who are willing to see and to cooperate with this universal mystery of resurrection. 

We’re so lucky in my part of the world that Easter coincides with springtime. If this applies to you, I hope you’re going out and seeing the leaves and the flowers being reborn after months of winter. I went out early this morning to see the Easter sunrise. Sure enough, the sun rose as it always does and peeked over the horizon, just between two mountains. It appeared not so much like a sunrise but as a groundswell. The light was coming from the earth. It was coming from the world we live in. It was coming not from the top, but from the bottom. It seemed to say that even all of this which looks muddy and material, even all of this which looks so ordinary and dying, will be reborn. 

Easter is the feast of hope. This is the feast that says God will have the last word and that God’s final judgment is resurrection. God will turn all that we maim and destroy and hurt and punish into life and beauty. 

What the resurrection reveals more than anything else is that love is stronger than death. Jesus walks the way of death with love, and what it becomes is not death but life. Surprise of surprises! It doesn’t fit any logical explanation. Yet this is the mystery: that nothing dies forever, and that all that has died will be reborn in love.  

So to be a Christian is to be inevitably and forever a person of hope. God in Christ is saying this is what will last: my life and my love will always and forever have the final word.

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At the beginning of the chapter, Naaman is introduced as “a great man.” He was at the pinnacle of social and political power in Syria, honored even by the king. Naaman displayed his status throughout the first half of the story. He traveled with a caravan of servants—the ancient world’s version of a celebrity entourage—and he made arrogant demands of Elisha. He behaved like a powerful, entitled, and important man.But after encountering the God of Israel everything changed. In verses 17-18, Naaman refers to himself four times as Elisha’s “servant.” The great man had been brought low. Naaman’s new, humble status is symbolized by his request to take two mules worth of dirt back to Syria. Unlike the precious gold and silver carried by Naaman’s caravan, dirt was the most ordinary and abundant commodity imaginable. Why did he need to ask Elisha’s permission to take some?Again, this detail is a dramatic reversal from what we learned about Naaman at the beginning of the story. As the leader of Syria’s army, Naaman would frequently lead raids into Israel and plunder whatever he desired, including Israel’s people. (Remember, the servant girl who told Naaman about the existence of a prophet who could heal him had been captured from Israel during one of these raids.) In the ancient Near East, the domination of Syria and the subjugation of Israel was understood to be more than a sign of military strength. It was also an indication that Syria’s gods were mightier than Israel’s. It was a kind of Darwinian spirituality where stronger deities rightfully ruled over the weaker, and therefore the nations with stronger gods had every right to plunder the nations with weaker gods. In Naaman’s mind, he and his army took from Israel whatever they wanted because it was their pagan god-given right.But then he encountered Israel’s God and all of Naaman’s assumptions were shattered. He discovered that Israel’s God was not weak. In fact, he was far more powerful, more uncontrollable, more dangerous, and yet more gracious than any god he’d ever known. In the presence of Israel’s God, the great man from Syria was brought low. So low, in fact, that he humbly asks permission to remove the mere dirt from the land that belongs to Israel’s God. At that moment, I wonder if Naaman thought about all he had carried away from Israel without asking. Did his mind begin to inventory the herds of animals, grain, pottery, and weapons? The fine garments, wares, artwork, and scrolls? The gold, silver, and the real wealth of Israel, its people—the children he had enslaved and those his armies had killed? Did Naaman, for the first time, understand the depth of his offenses against Israel’s God? And yet, Naaman must have marveled, that Israel’s God had chosen to cleanse him anyway.But it wasn’t merely Naaman’s skin that God had healed. It was his pride. The great man from Syria, arrogant and boastful, entitled and presumptuous, was now a mere servant of Israel’s God who alone is great. DAILY SCRIPTURE MATTHEW 23:2–12  2 KINGS 5:1-27 WEEKLY PRAYER. Hippolytus of Rome (190 – 236) Christ is risen: The world below lies desolate. Christ is risen: The spirits of evil are fallen. Christ is risen: The angels of God are rejoicing. Christ is risen: The tombs of the dead are empty. Christ is risen indeed from the dead, the first of the sleepers. Glory and power are his forever and ever. Amen.

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