Sometimes the Search is the Point

Want some Easter grass? Tiny hands held out bright green plastic grass as a gesture of friendship from the four-year-old South Korean girl, who I later learned was named Sammy. Sammy became one of my earliest friends and was architect of one of my earliest Easter memories.

To be honest, the Easter memories from the first half of my life revolve more around Easter grass, brightly colored candy-filled eggs, and straw Easter hats than they do the resurrection of Jesus. Easter was my mom’s favorite holiday, and we had several traditions. After buying and wearing a special Easter church outfit, we would eat out at a nice restaurant before our annual Easter basket search commenced. Instead of hiding individual eggs, my parents would hide the entire pre-filled basket. My siblings and I have formative memories of searching for hidden Easter baskets, which my father would hide in progressively more difficult places each year of my life. One of the four siblings would inevitably end up weeping because the hiding place was just too hard and it was so unfair. Ahhh, Easter.

A few of Hannah’s favorite Easter memories with family and friends.

It wasn’t until college that I began to grasp the weight and holiness of this time of year. I remember attending a sunrise Easter service and sensing the presence of God in a way that brought tears of gratitude to my eyes; He was alive and He was right here with me. Another memory involves attending a Serbian Orthodox Good Friday service as a college class assignment. The service was an all-night candlelight vigil. At scheduled times, we marched around the perimeter of the church while speaking liturgies about how Christ had “trampled death by death.” This was my first time sitting in the darkness (literally!) of Christ’s death.

This deeper internalization of both Christ’s death and resurrection stayed with me throughout my adult years. Easter became one of my own favorite holidays as I hid my own children’s Easter baskets while also making space to sit with what Christ had done for me.

And then I became a pastor. One might assume that serving as a spiritual leader would make this holy holiday feel even holier—that my anointing would allow me to experience Easter in a more present, rich way. Maybe this is true for some pastors. For me, the responsibility of Easter has at times overshadowed its holiness. There have been holy and joyful moments, such as experiencing Christ powerfully while leading an Easter worship set or the time I watched my husband dance in a bunny suit in children’s ministry. But there have been many more moments driven by the pressure to perform: to hit the harmonies just right, to fill 1,000 more eggs, to think of a really creative service opener, and to find the perfect outfit, not because it’s fun but because it’s EASTER and first impressions matter.

I know in my head what Easter is all about. I’ve experienced Christ’s death and resurrection. But the ability to experience the truth of Easter while also planning the event of Easter has proven elusive. The struggle has been about as frustrating as looking for an Easter basket that is hidden just a little too well.

“Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he is risen, just as he said” (Matt 28:5-6).  

I forget that Easter began with a search for Jesus. His resurrection was the onset of a search for His presence, a search that continued for the remainder of His disciples’ lives. He would pop in for a long walk or a fish breakfast, then would recede for a while. He would come as blinding light or in a dream, then recede again. While it is true that many of our traditions (both secular and Christian) can get in the way of experiencing Jesus, it is also true that much of life is a search for His presence—and sometimes the search is the point.

And there is always the promise of finding Him.

“He has risen from the dead and is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him” (28:7).

You will see Him. Whether you are a mother filling eggs with candy for your kids, a college student internalizing your faith for the first time, a ministry leader feeling exhausted, or a pastor preparing a special service for twenty or 200 people, you will see Him. And maybe, as we relax into the truth of this promise, we can also remember that if He intends to make Himself known to us, He will do the same for those we love and lead. Maybe we can take some of the pressure off Easter, trusting that His promise of presence will hold true no matter how we choose to celebrate. As you prepare for and celebrate Christ’s resurrection this season, I hope you’ll enjoy the articles in this issue. We have stories about how Jesus is moving in new ways: in Africa, in a West Coast church plant, and in a Florida Next Gen leader with a huge heart for missions. God is also moving through old, rich traditions, as you’ll discover in this story. As you read, take a moment to recognize the familiar presence of God in each story. You will see Him!

About the Author

Hannah Bemis currently serves as the editor and director of Message of the Open Bible. She always wanted to do too many things when she grew up, and God has been kind enough to let her do most of them in different seasons. After seasons of mothering, teaching, writing, and staff pastoring, Hannah’s most recent adventure is planting College Street Church in Newberg, Oregon, with her husband, Jordan. After Jesus and all her favorite people, she spends the remainder of her passion on pizza and dark chocolate in equal measure.