This mosaic image of Jesus in The National Cathedral has long been one of my favorites. But since moving to Denver, it has taken on a new importance because the pinks and blues surrounding Jesus are easily recognizable to anyone who lives here. This is an evening Denver sky.
We make a lot about the morning of the resurrection. But what about the end of that day? What was it like for Jesus to be alive on the earth, again, that night? And what was it like for His followers? As they went to bed that night, what were they thinking?
I love the Denver sunsets and this is one of them. They say that the colors come from the dusk kicked up in the busy day past. So many cars. So many meetings. So many papers. So many mistakes. So many plans. So many reports. So many births. So many deaths. So many diagnoses. So many pills. So many unkind words. So many healing apologies.
It is valuable, far away from Easter hymns and pomp and circumstance, to ask what the resurrection means to you. For me, the resurrection means that what we experience on this earth is not the end of the story. For me Easter means that no matter how challenging life gets, God is busy doing a new thing – remaking our life. So I love the pinks and blues of Resurrection. I love their optimism.
In a world in which I can no longer taste and smell and in which the Church seems so little like what I imagined it to be, I look to color and give thanks for a creative God.
