Easter Changes Everything

Last year, I had a profound breakthrough during Lent. I offered to the Lord a stronghold of thought that bound me. I agreed with dark powers that I was ugly and undesirable: my (unwanted) singleness provided evidence of this lousy truth. Jesus broke the power of this lie and freed me from its grip. A true Easter miracle!

This year, Lent felt less meaningful. Sure, I was pretty faithful to my Lenten sacrifices and more diligent than usual in my morning prayer times, but I experienced little fruit from these efforts. I sought Jesus in the desert but struggled to find Him there. Perhaps last year I used up my allotted portion of Resurrection life.

Yet, during Holy Week, everything shifted: I’ve never been so moved by Jesus’ washing of the disciples’ feet, the bloody humiliation of the Crucifixion, and the grief of mourning over Jesus’ slain body—a death to which I contributed. Come Easter Sunday, I was filled with the joy of the Resurrection in a new way—deeper than ever before.

The desert had prepared me for this encounter with Risen Jesus: I was ravenous in my hunger and thirst; I drank and ate of His sacrifice as never before. Easter truly changes everything.

In retrospect, these past two Lents were not so different. My subjective experience this year, skewed by errant thoughts and feelings, was redeemed by the objective victory of the Resurrection.

That’s been the defining trajectory of my healing journey: Jesus’ triumph, unshakable and unimpeachable, which freed me to shake off self-hatred. His truth lifts me up from the mire. He meets me and lift me up to heights befitting of me, His daughter whom He loves above all else.

The Resurrection doesn’t repress my lived experiences (I did feel ugly and disqualified for most of my life, and Lent was rather underwhelming this year). Instead, it gives me the strength to interpret myself correctly, from God’s vantage point. I am not disqualified in my femininity. Though Satan still employs lies to thwart my good gift. Jesus never abandons me. He just uses everything to prepare me for a joyful Easter reunion. With Himself. With my true self.

Truth doesn’t start with me, but with Him. There is much danger in letting subjective experiences become the baseline for truth. (Please read Richard Doerflinger’s important article, “Lived Experience” and Moral Tradition, which explores an alarming shift in moral theology from objective truth to subjective experience that can reinterpret or mitigate moral norms.)

Outside the danger of moral relativism, this line of thinking deprives the Resurrection of its full dignifying power. I am glad the Cross meets me where I am, but even more thankful that the Resurrected Jesus frees me to live (over and over) in accord with the true dignity of my personhood.

The healing, transforming love of the Crucified One is an objective truth that allows me to see beyond the subjective—my experience, which can skew reality. It allows me to do the same for those I serve in Living Waters. The Cross defeats demonic power that assails us and holds us in bondage. I’ve partaken of that victory in my own life. I help others do the same.

I am not tempted to blur the boundary line between right and wrong. Through the full authority of the Cross, we are no longer slaves, but sons and daughters of God (Gal. 4:7). What a privilege to live this way. What a greater privilege to accompany others as they take hold of this dignity.

Lent prepares me for Eastertide and shifts my perspective away from myself to the heavens, where I behold the Lamb who was slain so that I may live. Myopia is swallowed up in the fullness of what He won for me at Calvary. I see beyond myself to the One who defeated sin and death and who gives me strength to live differently. Resurrection changes everything.