The Mystery That Moves Me This Week

There is an author I love named Tolkien who cared about telling great stories, was a devout Christian, and included in his masterpiece some fun harmonies with the Christian calendar.
 
For instance, in The Lord of the Rings, the fellowship sets out from Rivendell on December 25th (aka Christmas). The ring is (spoiler alert) destroyed on March 25th, the date many believed Christ was both conceived and died on the cross, (spoiler alert) securing salvation and atoning for sin.
 
Tolkien loved Christ, lived the Christian calendar, and was one of the greatest storytellers of all time. He disliked allegory, and yet produced the most spiritually affecting novel series I have ever read.
 
Maybe there is a reason why so many of our favorite authors (Austen, Lewis, O’Connor, Chesterton, etc.) grew up and lived in the rhythms of the Christian year. It’s a little bit hard to find noteworthy exceptions.
 
It might have a little to do with mystery, faith, and the mystery of faith.

I love this time of year. The Lord taught his disciples how to fast and the earliest disciples of the disciples taught us to fast before Easter. Christians have been doing that ever since. They made a big deal out of time and how it is to be kept. They believed that Christ was Lord of all and the great subject of our affections and attentions and…calendar. I know lots of Christians have different practices, but I tend to believe those early Christians have some good gifts to give us and that we would be wise to humbly consider receiving them. Both Tolkien, a Roman Catholic, and his friend C. S. Lewis, a Protestant, believed that.

This week you might be coming to the end of a fast and are excited to feast in celebration of the Risen Lord! I don’t know what you have planned. (Actually, I do know what a lot of you have planned, because you told me.) Whatever it is, I’m happy for you. I’m happy for me. I’m happy for the whole world.

Happy? In this economy? Amid these fears? Amid this challenge in my family? Amid sickness and sorrow and death?
 
Well, yeah. About that death…
Every Sunday for a long time I have been prompted by a man who is (literally) celebrating to proclaim “the mystery of faith.”

That gives me great joy. Even this heavy, holy week. Especially this heavy, holy week.
 
The Resurrection Celebration is happening on Sunday, but the Resurrection already happened. So did the death. So, the coming again is happening.
 
Christians call this holiday Easter—not because of some pagan goddess’s similar name, but—because Christ is believed to be coming again, rising (like the sun) in the east. So we look for the rising, the coming, the glorious new advent promised us by the work of Easter.

So, even amid the troubles of life, we have a happy hope. We have this happy/blessed hope.

A prayer we say in my church near dismissal includes, “and now, Father, send us out to do the work you have given us to do.” This is a validation of vocation and a dedication of ourselves to the Lord’s service in whatever we faithfully do.

I write kids books. I serve the Lord by serving kids made in his image, many of whom are going through dark days. I am inspired by the true tale of Easter to love them the best I can, and to help them, in the darkness, look and long for the sunrise. Sunrise is an artistic wonder, a most photographed phenomenon, and the muse of every kind of artist. It is in the east, and it gives light and life to the world.

My stories aren’t “direct sunlight,” but they are, I pray, aglow with the light of that sunrise for which we all long. Easter light.

The Green Ember books are all really Easter books. Not because of rabbits, but because of when they were written (often during Lent and Eastertide) and that they are soaked in the sunshine of Resurrection.

If you are not a Christian, I love you. I want to invite you to the big celebration and into the big story. The door is red because of the blood—but don’t worry, it’s not yours. And anyway you get into the water right off. The feast awaits you. Come on home to God.

My brothers and sisters, I love you. Isn’t this awesome? It is, because…

Christ has died. 
Christ is risen.
Christ will come again.