Do Not Rush Past Resurrection: Staying with What Has Been Raised

Resurrection has a way of arriving—and then being quickly left behind.

The lilies fade. The music softens. The alleluias quiet. And before we know it, we have moved on—back into the rhythms, responsibilities, and urgencies of ordinary life. Easter becomes something we celebrated rather than something we are still learning to see.

But resurrection is not meant to be rushed past.

In the Gospel accounts, no one moves quickly through resurrection. The women linger at the tomb, confused and afraid. Mary mistakes Jesus for a gardener. The disciples gather behind locked doors, unsure of what has actually happened. Even joy is slow to take root. Resurrection is real—but it is not immediately understood.

Perhaps that is because resurrection is not just an event. It is a reality that must be learned.

It takes time to recognize what has been raised.

In our own lives, resurrection rarely announces itself with clarity. It does not always look like triumph. More often, it appears quietly—in a softened heart, in a conversation that goes differently than it once would have, in a small but significant shift in how we carry ourselves in the world.

Something has changed. Something has been made new. But we are still catching up to it.

And so the invitation of this season is not to declare resurrection and move on—but to stay with it.

To ask:

Resurrection asks for our attention.

It asks us to notice what we might otherwise overlook. To honor what feels fragile. To resist the urge to measure new life by old expectations. Because what has been raised may not look the way we thought it would.

And still—it is life.

There is a kind of spiritual wisdom in lingering. In allowing ourselves to dwell in what God has done before rushing to what we think we must do next. In trusting that transformation deepens when it is witnessed.

So resist the instinct to move on too quickly.

Stay a little longer with what has been raised.

Let it teach you how to see again.