The World According to Tiff Sniff

Meandering ponderings and wonderings on the state of things.


Growing up in the good old Church of Christ, there was never a lot of emphasis placed on Easter. Sure, I got a new dress for church and a basket full of candy and toys, but that was about it. It was like any other Sunday, except we always could count on singing "Up From the Grave" at church for sure.

That didn't really change until I moved to California. Some of the people I met my first year in school encouraged me to practice Lent with them. I did, and Easter morning we all met on campus and had a sunrise service overlooking the Pacific. Ever since then, Holy Week has become more, well, not meaningful (it was always there after all), but more impactful on me personally. Easter quickly became my favorite holiday, because, after all, it all comes down to this weekend.

Until this year. This year, I've been really busy. Practicing for our service tomorrow night, trying to get tax stuff done at work before the April 15 deadline, even just going to more concerts than I have in a while. All of it has taken away the time I would have had to think about this week.

Then last night, I had to go to one final rehearsal. I didn't want to go; I had tickets to see Will Hoge afterwards, and would have rather gone to dinner with my friends. But I knew that I should rehearse, and so I did. I got there and chatted with friends, and we all got into our places on stage and started singing. And something changed.

We're singing a song whose lyrics touched me deeply. Suddenly I realized that yesterday was the anniversary. That thousands of years ago, on that very Friday, it happened. The seminal event in human history. The thing that changed everything forever. And I realized that we were entering the dark days - the time when the Christ was in fact dead. When he wasn't alive, teaching and healing, and when he wasn't yet resurrected, promising life and His spirit. When his followers and friends and family were in the dark, mourning and fearful and desperate.

And today - today when they were trying to figure out how to get through the day. When they were looking at what they had done for three years, working and building and creating a new world. Looking back on a time when they had known exactly who they were and where they stood in the world and why they were there. All of that gone, in the matter of a day and a half. With no warning, no explanation, no promise of resolution.

This is where we live. This Saturday world, where the fall has already happened and dark is upon us. Where our dreams can be crushed, relationships fall apart, people we love can be ripped from us in a heartbeat, with no warning and no explanation and no promise of resolution. We wake up every day and face this world, unsure if we're really supposed to be here, if we're doing things right, if we are loved the way we want to be.

But then there's Sunday. Sunday when Jesus' people began to move forward, trusting that if nothing else, this was the Son of God, and God will always work for the good of his people. And when they move toward that belief, act on that faith, approach the tomb to face what must be faced and do what must be done. At that time, oh, the unspeakable joy that awaits.

And we are so lucky, because we know that Sunday is tomorrow. And we know that the tomb will be empty, and that we'll find that our lives are even more meaningful and purposeful and full of love and promise and just sheer wonderfulness, than we ever hoped for or imagined. Everything we go through in this Saturday-life is not without meaning, is not unbearable. Because Sunday will break into our lives when we least expect it, and the life and spirit that can fill us on that day makes everything else fall away to the margins.

And so it is with that anticipation, that expectancy of God's miracle of new life for everyone, no matter how weary and broken down and torn, that I wait on this Saturday for the new day tomorrow.

Christ is risen; praise the Lord!

1 Responses to “Life”

  1. # Blogger Tara

    You know today when Tim told Tameka he was glad our denomination doesn't allow women to preach sermons, as in implying that he'd be out of a job if she applied? This entry just made me think of that. You have a gift with words, and I'm thankful that your blog is just one more way you've been able to impart wisdom to me. I love you!

    Praise God! :-)  

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