T.S. Eliot’s famous poem “The Waste Land,” opens with an enigmatic line, “April is the cruellest month.” At first, this seems paradoxical. After all, April heralds spring, blooming flowers, and new life. So why the cruelty? Eliot’s poem highlights the contrast between external beauty and inner turmoil. As the world awakens, those in despair may find their suffering magnified by the vibrant surroundings.
When we look at creation, we know insects must undergo metamorphosis to transform from larva to adult. This experience involves breaking down and rebuilding their entire body. Similarly, snakes and crustaceans only grow by shedding their old skin or exoskeleton. It leaves them exposed to predators and the elements until their new layer hardens. Discomfort and vulnerability are inherent in growth and transformation.
In the Easter stories of Scripture, we meet the disciples coming out of their own numbness in the presence of the resurrected Jesus. Each encounter—Mary Magdalene at the tomb, the disciples on the road to Emmaus, Peter’s restoration over breakfast—involves awakening dormant love, numbed by grief, disappointment or failure. The transition to the new life Jesus offers involves releasing past pain. It’s painful, yet it is part of a beautiful new season.
You may experience these awakening moments that hurt. Jesus’ resurrection promises new life, but it doesn’t instantly erase our struggles or regrets. Our old ways and regrets must die to make room for the new. It’s an ongoing journey from darkness to light, awakening to a reality where hope and healing coexist with our brokenness.
The resurrection calls us to walk through the pain, just as the disciples did. The resurrection isn’t just an event we remember; it names our ongoing transformation by the power of the Holy Spirit out of God’s love for us.
Stay focused on that vision of what is to be for you, our church, and our world in this sometimes-cruel month of April. It is a promise of abundant and eternal life. Like the disciples, you may be experiencing the tension between pain and hope. Take heart: the ache may just mean you’re waking up!
Grace & Peace,