Sabbath Devotional: Easter Sunday
- Elizabeth VanDerwerken
- Apr 20
- 3 min read
“Here’s love and grief beyond degree;
The Lord of glory died for men.
But lo! what sudden joys were heard!
The Lord, though dead, revived again.
The rising Lord forsook the tomb.
In vain the tomb forbade him rise.
Cherubic legions guard him home
And shout him welcome to the skies.”
-Isaac Watts, “He Died! The Great Redeemer Died”
Happy Easter — He is risen!
This year I have been thinking about the duality of Easter — this special day represents a beautiful and significant event in the Savior’s life, but it also has a shadow side: His descent below all things in the garden of Gethsemane and His crucifixion, with it a withdrawal of the Holy Spirit.
Usually in spring and around Easter, I find myself in high spirits — the days are lengthening, the weather has warmed up where I live, and the general splendor of the season mirrors an optimism that I usually feel at this time of year. This year, however, I have been feeling a bit rundown — my semester has been a challenging one and the daily news brings stories that further diminish the rest I seek. I was despairing about what to write for this Easter Sabbath devotional, not feeling up to the task with my current mindset and demeanor.
I was rereading some things I’d written in years past on Easter. In 2021, I reflected on the challenges in our society and lives with the ongoing pandemic and other events in the world that had created and perpetuated great pain in our society.
In a conference talk in April 2021, Sister Reyna Aburto referenced the story of Mary Magdalene and her sorrow in the garden at finding Jesus’s body missing from its sepulchre and her unexpected run-in with the Savior not long after. Upon that retelling I had been struck by Christ’s actions and words and Sister Aburto’s characterization of them; she noted that Christ allowed Mary the full expression of her grief and sorrow, before He spoke to her by name. His acknowledgment of that which is hard or difficult to bear reflects the notion that He will “sanctify to us our deepest distress” (“How Firm a Foundation”).
Christ’s emulation of this pattern of bearing witness to and honoring the very real sorrows and pains of His people appear again and again throughout the scriptures. Indeed, one of the most profound lessons of the Bible contained in the two words, “Jesus wept,” offer another circumstance in which Christ’s eternal perspective still did not eclipse His and His friends’ expressions of sorrow at Lazarus’ passing. This principle illustrated in scriptural texts holds so much power and implicates so much for us as members of His modern church. We need not write off or dismiss the cries of pain or hurt from our fellow Saints and from our fellow humans generally. Christ did not do that; He honored and stood in solidarity with others through these challenges and experiences. His ministrations to the marginalized throughout scripture show the same care and attention to all those who may feel forgotten, ignored, or whose energies have been spent without results. The promise of Christ’s resurrection, and with it His restitution for all that we have experienced, is a beautiful one. I was reminded at that time that to uphold my covenant relationship with Christ and my fellow humans, my rejoicings cannot come at the expense or denial of another’s pain. Indeed, those covenant promises invoke a commitment to bear witness, to bear one another’s burdens, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort.
I hope this Easter Sunday brings peace and comfort as you contemplate the incredible life and gifts of our Savior.
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Image: a Danish Easter letter or gækkebreve that I made for a friend several years ago, after learning of the tradition from Brittany Jepsen of the House that Lars Built
Elizabeth VanDerwerken is the proactive root director at Mormon Women for Ethical Government.


