The Week After Easter

It’s kind of like the week after Christmas. I have celebrated. I have worshipped. I have been with family. There’s a routine to our holiday with traditions of Watergate salad and pineapple sandwiches. For me, Easter is now part of Spring Break, and it gets harder to focus on Easter when I begin thinking about taking a vacation.
 
This year, I did both. Easter on vacation.
 
Bob and I had big, beautiful plans for sunrise service on the beach, but we didn’t bring jackets for that unusually cold morning. Next, we decided to visit a local church, but my kid didn’t pack Sunday clothes because we said we would be on that beach for the sunrise service. We did remember that FBC was live streaming the service, so we worshipped with our church family.
 
No pineapple sandwiches, but I’m pretty sure there was fried grouper.
 
One tradition I did uphold: I reminded my family one more time about Luke’s Easter story.
 
As a little girl, I would sit in church each Sunday and flipping through my Bible. I was not allowed to snuggle down in my mom’s arms and nap. I was not allowed to draw on the attendance register. I was not allowed to sneak to the bathroom during service (we went before it started.) I could however count the stained-glass windowpanes and tall, imposing organ pipes as many times as I wanted, or I could spend an hour in worship. Many times, I would open my Bible to the Easter story in Luke.
 
It’s my favorite. It is where my name is found.
 
Lots of people I know are given fine Christian names from the Old and New Testaments. At that time, I didn’t know any people with my name, so I felt special to share it with such an inspirational person.
 
Always afraid of "that hush-up look" from adults in church, I quietly turned pages, searching for Luke’s words about Joanna who went with Mary and the other women to the tomb of Jesus. Since this was long before the age of Google, I felt compelled to reread the other gospels, fact checking the Easter story to make certain it was only Luke who mentioned her. The other gospels mention the women. Luke- the well-educated physician and writer that he was- named a few of them.
 
Like Joanna.
 
Joanna is introduced as the noble wife of a steward in the house of Herod. Some accounts also place her at the cross. She was a woman who had been healed by Jesus. Once restored to good physical and mental health, Joanna devoted her life to Jesus, helping in His ministry.
 
Joanna surrendered to His calling and was willing to allow God to work in her life. She was prepared to do His work however He asked. She honored Him with her words and deeds.
 
That’s a lot to live up to in a name, but then again so are the names Peter, Paul, and Mary. Oh- and John, as in John the Baptist.
 
I think about this Joanna, this woman who traveled with her friends as a witness for Christ.
 
I imagine how she approached the tomb with a heavy heart, perhaps still crying for her loss.
I imagine her quietly resigned to the task of preparing His body but deeply grateful to serve Him one last time.
I imagine her expression as she entered an empty tomb, perhaps angry or anxious to discover stones rolled away.
I imagine her wonder at beautiful light and angel voices as she discovered that she could search for a living Jesus; she would not find Him among the dead.
 
I did enjoy my vacation. I spent this week-after-Easter as still and quiet as possible. Those precious vacation days allowed me some perspective. I continued to think about this woman from the Bible, but then I questioned- what happened next?
 
I wondered what this disciple of Jesus did the week after those amazing moments at an empty tomb.
  
When she returned home, what did she say to her family?
Was she terrified like the other disciples?
Was she confused and anxious, choosing to just keep to her daily routine?
 
Or perhaps she was still, creating quiet spaces for God to find her.
Trust despite trembling.
Faith despite fear.
Wonder in the weakness.
 
When doubt crept in, I hope she remembered His words. I hope she remembered His teaching and His commands to love.
 
Maybe, she believed in His ministry just as she did before He died.
Maybe, she made a choice in those quiet moments to continue to serve Jesus as his disciple.
Maybe, she honored Jesus, remembering that love and obedience go together.
 
Sitting as still as possible on a beach last week, I tried to create some of those quiet places for God to find me, to restore me mentally and physically. I tried to imagine how my weeks-after-Easter can be filled with His love and my faith.  
 
If I need to go back to a beach to think about it some more, I will.
 
Did you know that some denominations even refer to this special woman as Santa Joanna?
It does have a nice ring to it.
Just sayin.

Luke 24
On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. 2 They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, 3 but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. 4 While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood beside them. 5 In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? 6 He is not here; he has risen! Remember how he told you, while he was still with you in Galilee: 7 ‘The Son of Man must be delivered over to the hands of sinners, be crucified and on the third day be raised again.’ ” 8 Then they remembered his words.
9 When they came back from the tomb, they told all these things to the Eleven and to all the others. 10 It was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the others with them who told this to the apostles.

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