When our only tool left is joy
A reflection on resurrection
The story of Easter resurrection is odd.
Growing up, I felt the triumphant joy of “Jesus is alive!” I never really knew what that meant in practical, boots-on-the-ground terms, but in the up-in-the-sky kind of way, I felt the spirit of celebration. Death didn’t win in the story! For the last decade, though, I’ve approached Easter with a bit more hesitation. I don’t want to rush to the resurrection. The crucifixion is horrifying: the state-sanctioned execution of Jesus. It’s traumatic, violent, cruel, and unjust.
When resurrection comes… am I ready for this good news? What if resurrection doesn’t feel like relief right away?
This year, I re-read Luke’s account of the resurrection. As I sat with it during Holy Week, I felt deep solidarity with the characters in the story. The women at the tomb are perplexed “without a path.” The two travelers are disappointed and confused. The disciples are skeptical.
Jesus’ resurrection doesn’t bring immediate relief or joy.
The resurrection is disorienting. People aren’t ready. They’re still metabolizing the horrors of the violence they witnessed. And like those early followers, we are living in a time of pain, violence, and trauma. We’ve witnessed it. We’ve experienced it. Are we ready for the good news of resurrection?
What’s interesting about Luke’s account—unlike Matthew, Mark, or John—is that it ends with the ascension of Jesus into heaven. The disciples are left in joy: “And they worshiped him and returned to Jerusalem with great joy” (24:52).
This oddly disorienting story ends in joy.
Nothing is tied up in a neat bow. Jesus was killed by the state, raised from the dead in a startling and unnerving way, and then ascended into heaven. Jesus leaves them—again. And yet, even while so much of the story remains unresolved, the disciples carry forward this deep, defiant joy.
It reminds me of the words of Willie James Jennings we looked at last Thursday at Harbor: “Joy is an act of resistance against despair. Resisting all the ways in which life can be strangled and presented to us as not worth living.”
Joy isn’t a superficial escape from pain or suffering. Quite the opposite. It’s the deep work of the soul choosing to say that things can be better—that there is still good—even when despair is tightening its grip.
Joy, cheesy as it might sound, is one of our most powerful tools against oppression. It is resistance. And as many of us feel overwhelmed by the state of the world, the country, our communities, or even our own lives, may we move toward joy—not as escapism, but as a way to survive. A way to remember that death, suffering, and pain do not get the final word in Jesus’ story nor in ours.
This week after Easter invites us to keep reflecting:
What brings you joy right now?
What helps you cultivate it?
May we keep finding joy, even in the disorientation.
