This is the first Saturday in Holy Week in 13 years that I’m not numb with exhaustion from the schedule of Lent and Holy Week and the preparation for Easter that comes with being a priest in a parish. I’m sitting here in the early morning in my favorite chair with candles lit and coffee poured pondering questions asked of me this past week: with all the I’ve been through in these past 20 months, what lies on the other side of Easter for me? What resurrection will I live into as I move into a new way of being a priest in the Church of England? And to draw from the wisdom of the story of Lazarus, what bindings do I need to let go of and leave behind in the tomb?

For the entirety of my time preparing for and being a priest, I’ve always found the leadership models we are formed into a bit perplexing. I’ve watched as we live with the gap between inviting women into ordination and then expecting us to sit quiet and demure at the table while the men take charge. When we do speak up and use the voice that God and the Church calls us into, we are often told to stop being so aggressive or bossy. Many in leadership – both men and women – would rather maintain the status quo because it’s more comfortable than look honestly at how we lead compared to how Jesus models leadership for us.

Last summer, when speaking up against the disrespect and mistreatment in the church I’m in I was told I shouldn’t have caused a disruption and that I should just find another parish. With documented evidence and the voices of many witnesses corroborating what I was describing as our lived experience of marginalization and coercion, I was told I was the difficult one.

So, on this Holy Saturday as we sit in the after-silence of Jesus’ murder, I am pondering what was Jesus killed because of (and I word this grammatically awkward sentence intentionally because I didn’t want to say ‘killed for’). Jesus spoke out against the status quo of power, the kind of power that elevates some people above others, the kind of power that requires controlling others. Jesus spoke against the treatment of the people not in these power positions that so often come not from ability but from the color/gender/socioeconomic status we are born into. In other words, power not given but assumed because of chance circumstances. Jesus’ harshest words were for those in these power positions regarding their treatment of others.

Jesus was killed because he disrupted the status quo and threatened the power that kept a select few comfortable and many, many others struggling to survive. Jesus was murdered because he told everyone they are infinitely valuable in God’s eyes regardless of the circumstances of their birth. And then he called all of us to live into this ideal of God’s Creation, that we are all beloved children of God. The status quo of the government and the religious institution of the day couldn’t not survive the power of love because of their love of power so they used their power to try and squelch God’s Love.

And today, it feels like they succeeded. Where is Love on this Holy Saturday? It is not in the government buildings where decisions are made to deny basic necessities or to kill others so some can feel more powerful. Love is not in the acts of revenge or retaliation done in an attempt to gain or maintain power over others. Love is not in in the church buildings were some turn a blind eye to the pain and suffering caused by the power systems we are in because we want to maintain our comfort zone of control.

Love begins again when we open our eyes to the gap between saying everyone is God’s beloved and living it. Love begins when we open our ears to others’ lived experiences of being marginalized and abused. Love begins when we open our hearts to the shaping of the Holy Spirit so that we can have the courage to admit where we’ve been complicit in marginalizing others for our own comfort. Love begins when we can hold all people in unconditional positive regard.

As he was dying, Jesus prayed, “Father forgive them for they don’t know what they are doing?” This prayer has always perplexed me because they absolutely knew what they were doing – the authorities who called for his death, the soldiers who carried it out, the crowds who cheered – and they chose to allow their own need for power blind them to the suffering of another human being. Not knowing what we are doing can come in two forms: truly not being aware that what we’ve done brought harm to another and choosing to be willfully ignorant of the suffering we cause because admitting it could disrupt our power.

In the silence of Holy Saturday, we have the space to ask ourselves, “what don’t I know that I’m doing that causes others harm in any way?” Learning to love as God loves, learning to lead as Jesus models leadership doesn’t come in our attempts to control others but in our willingness to change ourselves. Learning to lead with love enables us to speak into the corrupted power of this world, holding others accountable for the harm they cause.

The tomb bindings that I am working to leave behind are the ways I’ve been taught and shaped to lead like the world leads, the ways that make maintaining power more important than the people Jesus calls me to lead like he leads. I know I don’t always know what I’m doing and I know that God forgives when I open my eyes and ears and heart to Love as God Loves. What lies on the other side of Easter for me is the continued journey of growing and becoming who God is always making me to be. What lies on the others side of Easter is to live into my calling to help others see the gap that keeps us from loving and leading like Jesus.

What is it that you need to leave behind like grave wrappings that is keeping you stuck in not knowing what it is you do? Look for the gaps between what you say you believe and living as Jesus shows us in flesh and blood how to live as God’s beloved. And if you need some help with the seeing, hearing, and knowing, give me a call and let’s pray and chat without judgement as we seek clarity. We are on this journey together and it’s always good to ask for help. Remember that you are God’s beloved, and so is everyone else.

Keep lovin’ louder than the hate, Y’all!