What makes the light of Easter last long past the hymns and lilies?
The ground beneath our feet has moved. The grim, unshaken certainties of loss and grief and toil and death have finally succumbed—and to such stunningly good news: “For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive” (1 Cor. 15:22).
Our muddied tale of violence and pain has yielded in a burst of light that stubbornly rejects a fade: “Christ died for our sins, just as the Scriptures said. He was buried, and He was raised from the dead on the third day” (1 Cor 15:3-4).
Now dawns the interrupted life—the days when joy reclaims its missing hours. The resurrected Christ insists there’ll be a better, brighter finish to our story. We dare to laugh, to stretch, to love: not all things stay just as they were.
We reach for strangers, suddenly so confident that love will win when all is done. We dance with children in the puddles: the rain we used to curse now waters our new life. The sinews of our hope grow strong, resilient—able now to bear what yesterday we feared.
The Great Disrupter has arisen, and He is making all things new.
So rise and walk—and stay in grace.
—Bill Knott