I treasure the "end" of Julie's Holy Week reflections. Here's one, key quote:
Some will argue that Christianity and Easter are much more than this picture of Jesus as I've painted him and his relationships. I'd say most Easter celebrations I've attended are about less.
She reaches her conclusion:
This year, I stayed home and dyed eggs with my husband and kids. As MLK Jr would call it, I was a conscientious objector to church-ified Easter. This Easter is the day my faith died. It is now utterly in ruins, in a tomb waiting for some kind of resuscitation...
As I grow older and think more about the resurrection and what it means, and what it doesn't mean, I'm less sure that I understand any of it.
Like Julie, I've been disillusioned more than once by the institutional church. But one thing I am sure of: the life in Christ we are part has a non-reducible, unchangeable pattern. First there is death, and then there is resurrection. Another way to say it: After failure, loss, hurt, abandonment, and regret, there is redemption. It sounds like Julie is in the middle of death.
I will pray for her, and it will be a prayer filled with confidence. Somehow, Jesus always brings resurrection.