As a pastor, I’ve grown accustomed to post-Easter depression.
It happens every year as I push myself beyond my normal limitations to make the
big day as over-the-top meaningful as possible for those people who fill
our pews to overflowing. It’s an emotional high for me... until a few hours later, when I make a crash landing on my mattress.
The downer of a week that follows Easter is always topped off by the next Sunday worship, known as "Low Sunday." After packing people into the worship space on Easter morning, the following Sunday is typically the worst attended worship service of the year. To avoid witnessing this depressing scene, many pastors choose to be away that day.
The post-Easter depression this year is a new experience for
me. I didn’t go from mountaintop to a nose-dive the way I normally do. The mountaintop
wasn’t particularly high. It felt more like a steep climb that only brought us
back to where we started.
Back when we all went home and cancelled worship the next
Sunday, we had no idea how long it would be before we gathered together again. Would
it be longer than two weeks? Would we be back in time for Easter?
It didn’t
take long for me to realize that our annual Easter celebration wasn’t going to
happen. Once I got over the shock, I was busy planning how to make it as
meaningful for folks as possible, given the circumstances. I did the best I
could, but the result was like getting all dressed up to attend a big fancy-schmancy
dinner at a palace and receiving a White Castle hamburger to go.
Much like any other year, I totally spent myself preparing
for Easter. But my post-Easter depression runs deeper. We made it through
Easter, so now what? In the past, I’ve known that Low Sunday is temporary. Things would pick back up again with Confirmation, Mother’s Day, and Pentecost
just around the corner. But what’s around the corner now? More of the same, I
suspect. I look at all the events scheduled on my calendar for the months ahead
and they seem to mock me. I can’t imagine doing any of them.
When I first realized that we wouldn’t be together for
Easter this year, I publicly vowed that as soon as these stay-at-home orders
were over, we would all get back together and celebrate Easter Sunday, no
matter what the date might be. That was my consolation.
I’m realizing now how naïve that was. When this is all over…?
When will that be? When we’re finally able to gather again for worship, it will
not be the way we once did. Many of our members will be advised to continue
staying home, and those who venture out will be socially distancing from one
another, probably wearing face masks. It will not be the time to celebrate
Easter; it will still be Lent.
That’s what my post-Easter depression looks like in 2020. I
know it won’t last forever, but today it’s feeling like it might. I’ll get over
it. If God can raise Jesus from the dead, God can walk with me through this
funk and bring me back into the land of the living.
Amen.
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