If we ever needed Easter, it’s now.

As you read this, you’re probably under some sort of shelter-in-place order in the midst of the Great COVID-19 Lockdown of 2020.

You’ve probably been home for a few weeks at this point, and one of a few things may be happening within you right now:

1) You’ve resigned yourself to the “new normal” of life in a pandemic, you’ve accepted this is how things are for now, and you’ve finally, mercifully, adjusted to this;

2) You were fine at first, and you even relished in your slower pace, your time at home, and your newly-free schedule, but this week, all the stress and pent-up emotions of “Are we okay? Are we dying? Will we be okay?” are finally getting to you, and you’ve found yourself crying in the middle of Thursday afternoon, for seemingly no reason at all; or

3) You’re mad as hell: mad that we have to do this, mad at leaders for their responses, mad that this stupid virus even exists, but also terrified to go outside because suddenly, everything and nothing seems dangerous at the same time. And that makes you mad, too.

Somehow, in the midst of this, we’re about to celebrate Easter.

Excuse me?

Easter?

How are we supposed to celebrate Easter right now? How are we supposed to celebrate anything?

The key lies in another season in the Christian tradition: Advent.

Advent is observed in the four weeks leading up to Christmas. Like Lent, the liturgical season we’re in right now, Advent is all about getting ready to encounter Jesus in a new way. Both seasons are penitential, meaning we’re asked to examine our lives, see the places we fall short (our sin), and dive more deeply into prayer so that on Christmas or Easter morning, we know and love Jesus more than we did before.

The difference?

Lent feels like deprivation. Advent feels like waiting in expectant hope.

The answer is as simple as it is difficult: Acknowledge the reality of this moment.

So, what can Advent teach us about how to celebrate Easter in the middle of a pandemic?

It teaches us to keep our eyes fixed on God’s promises. It invites us to remember the assurance that God is faithful. It reminds us of God’s invitation to us to wait on his faithfulness. Because the one thing we’re all doing right now is waiting—whether we’re Christian or not, whether we observe Lent or not.

The challenge, now more than ever, is to not just wait passively but to wait well.

The key to waiting well is to not laze about and languish in everything we lack, but to do the worthy and sometimes difficult work of preparation:

  • self-discovery
  • getting to know Jesus better
  • living your life more fully for him
  • confronting, with compassion and tenderness, all the ways you don’t love yourself
  • finding the things that make you come fully alive so that when the time comes, you have a whole life and a whole self to offer the world

And this is how Advent and Lent tie together, once and for all. The waiting well of Advent leads us to consider Jesus on the cross.

My grandma’s crucifix, which I look at every day.

On the cross, Jesus, who was fully alive, gave us his whole self: body, blood, soul, and divinity. He held nothing back. He offered it all willingly. He also offered it imperfectly. Don’t get me wrong: Jesus was the perfect offering because he atoned for our sins completely. But his wasn’t a gift neatly wrapped and tied in a ribbon, the way we give gifts today. His gift was bloody. It was messy. It was real.

If we ever needed Easter, it’s now. I’m not talking about the Easter of jelly beans and plastic eggs filled with candy. I’m talking about the real, original reason we celebrate this day in the first place: Jesus who was dead—he died for us, remember—is now alive, and he lives forever.

How do we celebrate Easter in a way that really matters right now?

The answer is as simple as it is difficult: Acknowledge the reality of this moment.

Don’t brush the difficulty of what we’re living through under the rug. Be where you are, poverty and all (and we’re all poor right now). Don’t run away from all your hidden junk, which suddenly has the time and room to bubble up to the surface. Don’t silence your fears with one more episode of Tiger King on Netflix. Don’t bottle your tears up within you with one more home improvement project.

Sit in your poverty and let Jesus—who is alive and who loves you more than you could ever know—meet you here.

This is how to celebrate Easter in the middle of a pandemic: let’s authentically meet the living Jesus in the depths of our hearts, and allow his love to change us.