To a person, 2020 has proved to be a year filled with destruction, suffering, fear, and anxiety. Hyperpolarization, inequality and immaturity seem a lot more abundant than the Good News of Jesus Christ. And yet, we believe and proclaim that we are a resurrection people. We proclaim in word and deed that the tomb is empty and light over comes darkness. Hallelujah! I am not there right now. Are you?
For all of us, any proclamation of Easter this year will be broken. Any celebration will continue to be imperfect. What does it mean to assert that light over comes darkness when it is still dark? What does it mean to proclaim a broken Hallelujah?
The picture chosen for this Sunday is of the bells at St. Mary’s in Lübeck, Germany. On Palm Sunday, March 29, 1942, the Allied Forces bombed Lübeck, destroying St. Mary’s. The church has since been restored, but the bells remain in a shattered heap, partially melted into the ground beneath the vault, providing a stark contrast to the polish and grandeur of the rest of the church. Today, the damaged sight serves as a peace memorial and is visible behind an iron gate.