I Didn't Know

Easter’s been one day for me for as long as I can remember. At least the primary focus for Easter was honed in on just one day - Resurrection Sunday. I was last week years old when I learned that Eastertide (or the Easter season) is fifty days on the liturgical calendar.

I’m sure this knowledge was somewhere way back in my memory banks, so I guess that makes it more of a reminder than hearing about it for the first time. Regardless, it got me thinking about a few things. And when I get thinking, the questions aren’t far behind.

In my zeal to celebrate the true hope of Easter, have I looked down on liturgy and any perceived shackles of past tradition? Reformed theology™ brings us freedom from such silly little confines, doesn’t it?

Liturgy and liturgical traditions become an obstacle to freedom. We are free in Christ = we must free ourselves from the limits of liturgy.

And maybe those exact words haven’t been said to me or by me, but has it been implied? And maybe we haven’t said it, but do we think it? I know the answer is yes on both counts for me.

What do our thoughts and beliefs about liturgy and liturgical traditions communicate? Is it lower case t truth that we’ve been too quick to make capital T Truth?

I used to think I had to shake off every single liturgical tradition from my past in order to experience true freedom in Christ. Out with the old and in with the new, so to speak.

Now I know that the freedom I have in Christ is found primarily in who he is and what he’s done. My focus should be less on any perceived limitations to past liturgical traditions, and more on whether or not the liturgy I’m practicing and walking in is a faithful reminder of the capital T Truth of who Jesus is and what he’s done.

Please don’t hear what I’m not saying: I don’t plan to make resurrection rolls and color hard-boiled eggs for fifty days. Although now that I type that out, it doesn’t sound like a horrible idea.

What I am saying is that I don’t know what I don’t know. And if there’s a faith and liturgical tradition that focuses a bit more on the fifty days of Easter than I do, then maybe, just maybe - instead of ignoring, mocking, rejecting, or looking down on it…

I can learn from it.

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“She did not know it was Jesus.”

I’m struck by her ignorance.
How could Mary not know?
Someone she knew so well
was standing right in front of her.

Someone she
did life with,
was taught about life from,
and given new life through.

“I didn’t know.”
I’m struck by my own words
and how often I say them.
The ignorance I share with Mary.

“I didn’t know.”
How often has Jesus been 
standing right in front of me,
and I didn’t know?

Couldn’t see.
Wouldn’t see.
Chose not to see.

“Mary.”
She sees.
Once she is called by name,
she is no longer blind.

And so it is with me.
I am called by name,
and my gaze is adjusted.

I am given eyes to see
and can no longer say,
“I didn’t know.”

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Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

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I really enjoyed writing this series - thanks for allowing me a little extra time in your inboxes this week!

I’d love to hear from you:

I’d also love to know what other series topics you’d like me to tackle. I’ve got a few ideas in mind, but I’d love to hear if there are any specific ones you’d like for me to explore!

Until next time,

Becky

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My debut book - Glimpses of Love: The Most Excellent Way of Imperfection - is available now on Amazon.

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Find past glimpses of love posts by visiting beckygonzalez.substack.com