It’s Complicated

Making Easter Flags

On Palm Sunday, we combined our Sunday school classes into one amazing group of 19. We heard the stories of Holy Week one more time as we created butterfly flags which will be on display Easter Sunday. The colors, the glitter, and the safety pin each remind us of a part of the story. Please ask the children and youth what they mean on Easter Sunday.

During youth group we talked about transformation, change and the resurrection. The more we talked, the more we realized that change is complicated. We shared the ways we have experienced change as difficult, exciting, challenging, welcome, and messy. Resurrection is complicated, too. Often depending on recent events in our own lives, new layers of meaning are added each time we encounter the stories of Holy Week.

When we read a reflection called, The First Time Resurrection Mattered to Me, our heads nodded in recognition of the mystery that is the cornerstone of our faith. Then, we used the article to create “black out poems” of our own. To create a blackout poem, choose an article or Bible passage. Using a marker, cross out words that aren’t important to you, until the few that remain shape themselves into a poem.

Some of our youth’s poems from Sunday:

Life was different. I’m not sure how. Maybe I never believed, I never realized. This year was the first year I realized. I’m not exactly sure why. I felt awe.

 I’ve realized how transformation never was sad. Because the first time I shared my light, everyone was smiling. The weight rolled away. So many people need new life.

 My whole life I’ve gone to church. This realization came. I never believed emptiness would stop. I’ve embraced Christian community. The miracle in the eyes of Holy Week. I cried. I felt awe. There was just this feeling. This year felt real. So many people needed this hope. Planting seeds in the darkness, hoping new life will come.


Whether you are experiencing Holy Week for the first time or the hundredth time, I pray that another layer of the complex and beautiful mystery is revealed. Peace, Christine.

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