Easter Monday: It’s Still Easter
RESIST: A HOLY WEEK SERIES
It's Still Easter
EASTER MONDAY — April 21
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The flowers are wilting. The ham is gone. The kids have eaten all the candy.
And it's still Easter.
This is the thing the church calendar knows that our culture doesn't: Easter isn't a day. It's a season. Fifty days, all the way to Pentecost. The ancient church didn't treat resurrection as a single Sunday event you celebrated and then packed away with the decorations. They lived in it. They let it expand. They kept asking what it meant — for how they ate together, shared resources, treated strangers, engaged power.
The resurrection didn't answer all their questions. It raised new ones.
That's where Easter Monday puts us. The tomb is still empty. But the rent is still due. The news is still brutal. The work of resistance is still in front of us, and it didn't get easier because we sang hymns yesterday.
So what do we do with the resurrection on an ordinary Monday?
We do what the early church did. We show up. We eat together. We share what we have. We tell the story to people who haven't heard it — or who've only heard a version of it that was used against them. We keep naming the powers for what they are. We keep building the community that makes the kingdom visible.
Easter Monday is when resurrection becomes a practice instead of a feeling.
The disciples on the Emmaus road — that's an Easter Monday story. Two of them walking away from Jerusalem, devastated, talking about everything that had happened. And Jesus walked with them, and they didn't recognize him. He opened the scriptures. He sat at their table. He broke bread. And in the breaking of the bread, they knew.
He was there in the ordinary. In the road. In the conversation. In the meal.
Resurrection keeps showing up in the places you don't expect it. In a community that refuses to stop gathering. In an act of solidarity that costs something. In a meal shared across lines that are supposed to divide. In someone who stays when they had every reason to leave.
We are still Easter people today. On a Monday. In the mess. With everything still unresolved.
The tomb is still empty. That doesn't change.
Go live like it.
Reflection: What would it look like to carry Easter into your week — not as a feeling to hold onto, but as a practice to live out?
