Visiting Your Easter Family

Dear Easter Family,

I renewed connection with a cousin in Duluth, Minnesota, a few months ago. I should say he renewed the contact—reaching out while he was undergoing some medical procedures, he wanted to inquire about Dani’s treatment progress. He had some information as we have sisters who talk regularly, so he wanted to let me know he had been praying for her recovery. I should also add that it wasn’t really a renewal of contact; we figured out the last time we had spoken to one another was in the early 1970s.

Family is like that. We have some commonality through marriage or blood; but of far greater importance, we have a bond through a mutual family field, a cloud of witnesses living and eternal. Both my cousin and I have fond memories of our mutual grandmother, as she was the mother of his dad and the mother of my mom. Only a few minutes on the phone and I recognized my uncle’s laugh in hid voice. Even though the last time we talked neither one of us had started high school, we recognized we were not strangers, but kin.

A week from this coming Sunday, we, along with the rest of the western Christian world, will celebrate Easter. It’s a common trope for ministers to gently rib the occasional attenders about how little we’ve seen them since Christmas Eve. I’ve always found such subtle or sometimes not-so-subtle mockery passively aggressive and offensive. How likely are you to return when, on the few occasions you do attend, you're told your participation is inadequate? Time is a precious thing, and whatever amount we spend together should be cherished as the gift that it is.

Over the years I’ve spoken with church participants whose participation has waned for a variety of reasons. Changes in health, family needs, tolerance for crowds or shifts in habits contribute to absence, and that first return can be daunting. There’s a fear one will need to justify disconnect or that they will be judged for choices that cannot be changed. Sometimes well-meaning regulars amplify the anxiety. In one congregation, I needed to explain a church greeter why “Where the hell have you been?” was not a great way to convey to someone they were missed. I’ve also made the mistake of greeting an unfamiliar face as if they were a newcomer, only to find out they’ve been members far longer than I’ve been pastor. To them, this is still their home, I’m the visitor.

Reconnecting involves risk, particularly with family, but there remains this cloud of witnesses—people we hold directly or indirectly in common. Some have passed to eternity, many have changed, a few remain as annoying as you remember, but through overlapping story, memory, relations and Spirit, we are still kin.

Think of Easter as a family reunion. Some members get together almost every week; their bonds can make them seem insular, self-absorbed, cliquish. Others only arrive for special occasions—weddings, funerals, baptisms, anniversaries, etc. Still others make the annual or semi-annual pilgrimage out of anticipation or obligation. Like all extended family gatherings, there are some new faces, babies and children, newlyweds and in-laws, some you’ve never met, others vaguely familiar. It really shouldn’t matter; it’s family, and it’s good to be together. Consider this your invitation to return again, no matter how long it’s been.

Keeping in mind that I am the newest member of FPCLG’s pastoral staff, I remain,

With Love,
Jonathan Krogh
Your Pastor