Anyone who’s had the privilege of attending a Kairos retreat knows that the finality comes with a simple question, “what’s next?” How do we go about living the “fourth” day after having three life-changing days, meant to catapult us into a new awareness and consciousness after an intense time of self-reflection and diving into the unconditional love of others that often goes unseen in the busyness of our lives or our judgments that infringe on our ability to feel that love. Needless to say, when any of us return to the limitations of ordinary, chronos time, which subsists in Kairos, the answers are not nearly as easily seen and we are often lulled back into the routine of our daily lives, longing for more of the Kairos experience that fed the deeper parts of our hearts and souls while becoming enslaved to the ways of the world and often ways that have assured to make our lives easier and more stream-lined.
Time has a way of controlling our lives. Since the inception of the internet and phones that have become attached to our sides, it only seems as if time has increased in speed and intensity. There’s always someone and something that needs our attention that we find ourselves swallowed up by an ever-ticking clock of time, always behind, wondering why life has lost some sense of meaning and purpose as we race to the clock and the need to move at the speed of the world wide web. Text after text seems to consume our time, among other things that grab our attention. The experience of Kairos seems but all a distant memory, finding ourselves limited by time and losing our connection to the eternal.
The celebration of Easter reminds us of the Kairos moments all while unfolding in the chaos of the events leading up to the transformative event of life and death. For the disciples there’s no sense of the eternal in the bowels of hell that they find themselves in during the moments following the unimaginable events of the crucifixion. It’s as if all the suffering of the world comes front and center in the lives of the disciples and they’ll be left with trying to sort out what it all means and do they become like the Pharisees and political leaders of their day with further enslavement to darkness, invoking fear, swallowed up in pride and control or do they allow the pain of the world to be transformed in and through them? Do they allow themselves to transcend the time of their day and learn to embrace the eternal, the Kairos moment that they were invited into during these days, reminding them as well that there is more to this life? For the disciples and the earlier followers of Jesus, the fourth day is all that follows and the choices that they’ll make.
More often than not when our lives become about racing against the clock and trying to please others by our instant response to life’s problems, we have a tendency to lose sight of the bigger picture of what really matters. It was no different for the disciples. Yet, all the choices that they would make in the days that followed would have lingering effects on the unfolding of the early community. We find them, more often than not in the days following Easter, locked inside the Upper Room, a significant spot where Jesus, as prophet, foretold their own unwillingness to follow the will of the Lord. The memories that must haunt them in those moments following the events, trying to make sense of what they had done and how they had contributed to the impending death of their friend, the one in whom they claimed they loved and pledged their loyalty. Yet, in the darkest of moments, when the sense of Kairos had all been but lost, they found themselves caught up in the reaction to the events, worried more about how it would impact them, looking for a quick fix, and simply trying to rid themselves of the problem and the chaos that seemed to be closing in not only on Jesus but on them. Like them, we can only run so long before our own pain catches up with us and our own unwillingness to see even our own lives from the larger perspective. All we can see in those moments, trapped in chronos, is the pain that we try to outrun or what forces us to lock ourselves in the Upper Room out of fear, wondering as to what the world, our own world, would think if they had known, that we were one of them.
There’s nothing Easter-like about the actual resurrection narratives when it comes to the disciples. It’s not until the story unfolds that we meet the early communities and the courage they exhibited in the way they proceeded, knowing that even in the darkest of days, God was somehow leading them and revealing the next step in life as to what would lead them to this burning love that exuded in their hearts. They too, like us, need to pass through the agony of the Cross of our own lives, where it feels as if time has all but stopped before we catch a glimpse of the eternal, the Kairos. The death of the self that we cling to as well as the disciples can sometimes feel like the most painful. It’s all we have clung to in order to protect what we have most held onto, our own pain, our shame, our own judgement against ourselves, out of fear of being found out by the Lord.
For the disciples, and us, Jesus doesn’t avoid that place but, in the eternal, appears in their very fear and pain and begins the process of transforming it as they recall what had first begun in Galilee, gaining new perspective. It wasn’t about the disciples doing just as Jesus did. It was about the disciples now tapping into the very love that burned in their hearts and living it out in their most unique way possible. For the disciples, and us, it’s about becoming their truest selves, the embodied love of the Lord, that allows the agony of the Cross to be transformed into an Easter event. Living the fourth day for the disciples is living from a new place, the place of Kairos in their own hearts and yet within the tension of a world that always seems to want to grab hold of hearts and souls.
Easter, and the life found in the emptiness of the tomb, reminds us that we often avoid the very reality that prevents us from living a life of faith, in what ever way God chooses. Kairos moments need not be limited to retreat moments but become a way of life, where, no matter how many times we find ourselves being consumed by the way of the world and enslaved to time, moving at the speed of light or as quick at least as quick as Google can search, leaving us anxious, afraid, and even lonely at times, the experience of Easter, the Kairos moment, the embodiment of love, will remind us always that we never settle and never become satisfied with anything less. We may find great comfort in the Upper Room of fear, shame, hurt, pain, or our own enslavement, but it will never give us the love we desire. The love of Easter frees us from bondage, from our own enslavement, to a place of freedom, where we can simply be the people God created us to be. In those moments we learn that it’s not just about the third day, but every fourth day that follows and how we are to live the paschal mystery faithfully in our lives. These are the Easter moments of our lives where our own death, even the death of self, leads to the life and love that we most desire of and for our lives.