Gospel Conversations Reimagined: Rhythms of Remembering, How the True Story of the Whole World Enhances Our Understanding of Easter
This past week I took advantage of an opportunity to observe Maundy Thursday, or holy Thursday, with the Kirby Laing Center for Public Theology. We met virtually three times throughout the day and remembered the hours before Jesus was crucified. We ended the day by taking communion together. Just as Jesus broke bread and took wine, so did we—in remembrance of him.
As Thursday came to a close, I was struck by the way the Spirit of God moves among believers. Although I did not know one person on the Zoom call, and despite our geographic distance, we gathered knowingly and intimately in remembrance of him.
Throughout the day I was reminded of the rhythm of remembrance that pulsates across the canon of Scripture and enhances our understanding of Easter. The missional storyline emerges as early as Genesis 3:15 and is woven across the biblical narrative. When Jesus gathers with his disciples in the Upper Room to celebrate the long held Jewish holiday called Passover, they celebrate in order to remember how God delivered Israel from bondage in Egypt thousands of years before. This extraordinary story is recorded for us in Exodus.
As the story unfolds, we learn that Israel now lives under the government of Egypt as slaves who are suffering under the weight of oppression and bondage. God hears Israel’s groaning and their cry for help and through a series of remarkable and even horrific events, God sends Moses to deliver the nation of Israel. After a series of showdowns that defy the laws of nature, God promises to deliver his people from their captors. However, they had to carefully follow his instructions. They were to kill an unblemished lamb and roast it for dinner in a specific way, and the dinner was to be eaten in haste. They were to take the blood of the lamb and put some on the doorposts and the lintels of the houses in which they ate. Then, God promised that when he passed through the land of Egypt in judgment, he would pass over the houses marked with the blood of the lamb.
What follows must have been surreal. God acts in devastating judgment against Egypt and passes over all of Israel and then allows some six hundred thousand people and their livestock to flee the land. Eventually, God parts the Red Sea and allows safe passage for Israel as Pharaoh’s army, following close behind, is engulfed by the water. This must have been an unforgettable moment. The night that God passed over changed everything. In fact, this story remains at the center of Israel’s history and has been told and retold for thousands of years. Whenever it was forgotten, lost in the dusty archives, God always raised someone up to read from their history and to revive the observance of the Passover. In remembrance of God’s deliverance (Ex. 12:1–42, 34:18–20; Lev. 23:4–8; Num. 9:5; Deut. 15:1–8; 2 Chron. 35:1–19; Ezra 6:19–22; Neh. 9:9–10; Psalm 77:11–20; 78:12–16).
In the New Testament, Jesus gathers with his disciples in the Upper Room to celebrate the Passover to remember. The meal they share is richly symbolic and rightly sobering. Jesus, the perfect Lamb of God, in anticipation of his arrest, mock-trial and crucifixion (that the Scripture might be fulfilled) breaks the bread—his body broken for us. He drinks the wine, his blood shed on our behalf. Do this, he says, in remembrance of me (Matt. 17:17–25; Mark 14:12–21; Luke 22:7–13; John 13).
The beautiful part of this solemn story is the fact that Jesus does not remain in the grave, but in great victory conquers sin and death and lives—he reigns—as King forevermore. The resurrection changes everything!
Easter in April 2021, we remember. We plant tulips and daffodils, we prepare food and host socially distanced banquets, we gather online or in person to worship in joyous song, in remembrance of Jesus Christ risen from the grave. The True Story of the Whole World is a universal truth and its historically embedded.
The rhythm of remembering provides us an anchor to the past, steadies us at present, and lends meaning and hope for tomorrow.