DOUG EICHER
NOTEBOOK
Toilet Paper & the Empty Tomb3/18/2020 Fear is a funny thing. It's one of the most versatile of human emotions; able to immobilize or move to action, sharpen or cloud judgement, and build up or tear down. It's been called many things: a thief, a liar, and an enemy. We all despise it and do our absolute best to avoid getting entangled in its writhing tentacles. And so, we lock our doors, close our shades, and cross our fingers, hoping that, if we ignore it, maybe it will just go away. You could say it gets a bad rap, to put it simply. But there's one thing for which you need to give it credit: it's really good at bringing out who we really are.
With the news of a global pandemic flooding our newspapers, social media feeds, and break room conversations, a veritable dread has seemed to worm its way into everything. People ravage supermarkets and convenience stores, restaurants and bars sit strangely empty, and masks and gloves are quickly becoming unexpected fashion standards. Everyone has an opinion, and everyone expresses that opinion with equal vehemence. Reactions range from complete indifference to shear panic, with a virtual no-man's-land between these two outposts. Most people either view it as a mild inconvenience or the end of all things, and they choose to act on the basis of that view. Even a lot of Jesus-followers seem to get swept away in the brisk current of information that floods our iPhones and TV screens every waking moment. I've been thinking a lot about this lately, and the question kept coming to my mind: what is a Jesus-follower's response to all of this supposed to be? When it comes to Jesus-followers and fear, you'll find a lot of pat answers. A good portion of well-meaning folks will cite passages like Revelation 21:8, I John 4:18, or II Timothy 1:7 as reasons that Jesus-followers should never be afraid. They assume that fear should simply melt away like snow on a hot day in July if you just have enough faith. In the fear of fear itself, genuine human emotion is exchanged for a cheap outline of the ideal; an outline whose effectiveness hinges solely on personal ability and shear willpower. In our effort to "trust", we further rely on ourselves and our own ability to perform. The story of grace is fashioned in our own image; to be no longer about grace but about us once again. So what are we to do? How are followers of Jesus supposed to respond when the world seems to be falling apart? Well, I think we need to go back to the foundation; the linchpin of the Jesus movement. If we really believe that Jesus walked out of that tomb on Easter morning, then our hope has a certain tangible, intensely physical aspect to it. It is no longer about some distant future in some otherworldly paradise with harps and clouds; it is about life, renewal, and resurrection. In his first letter to the Corinthian church, Paul explains that Jesus is the "first fruits" or "firstborn" from the dead, and that his resurrection has endemic consequences for us that are similar to, though entirely the reversal of, the resultants of our first parents' choice. He goes on to tell of a kingdom in which the death and chaos of this world are simply fleeting memories of another time. He tells that, because of Easter Sunday, our hope has a heartbeat. The author of Hebrews similarly describes Jesus in Herculean terms; as the hero of the story who defeats the darkness of this world, not simply by clubbing it to death, but by absorbing it and allowing it to destroy him. He explains that, in so doing, Jesus annihilated the annihilator and freed those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death and its power. This means that, for those of us who are followers of Jesus, the ultimate enemy stands completely powerless and humiliated, desperately holding on to its last vestiges of perceived power. Because of the empty tomb, death is no longer a finality; it is simply a formality. As followers of Jesus, those for whom death is now in reverse, we are called not simply to revel in our freedom, but to act; to redeem the world in the same way Jesus is redeeming us. If our hope is an intensely physical one, then our transmission of that hope should be in the same vein. We are called to interact with the world in genuine honesty, not shying away from its decrepitude, but facing it directly and entering into it in the same way Jesus did. And so we are called to act, not out of fear or indifference, but out of love for those around us. We are called to be part of the solution, part of the way that God interacts with the world. So what does that look like during the midst of a global pandemic? I can't say that I fully know, but I believe it means being honest; not simply denying or shying away from what's going on in the world, but embracing it in light of the resurrection. It means looking beyond myself to the suffering of others and sharing in their pain; being cognizant of how my actions may affect them. It means being willing to lay aside my personal convenience for the sake of others and their well-being. To put it simply, it means to love the world as Jesus does, living each moment and making each choice in light of the living hope that was born on Easter morning and that will one day overflow to flood the whole world.
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