This post from 2016 is oddly appropriate this year.
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A few years ago I audited a class at St. Paul seminary on “Preaching and the Short Story.” There was a story on the syllabus with “Easter” in the title, and I kept thinking I should read that before I wrote my Easter sermon.
So this story title, “Small Easter,” kept rattling around in my brain. I’ve got to read “Small Easter,” I would tell myself. Maybe tonight I’ll have time to read Updike’s “Small Easter,” I would think. Small Easter, Small Easter, Small Easter.
And finally, I sat down to read the story. And it wasn’t “Small Easter” at all. It was “Short Easter.”
The thing is, that year, I felt like I was having a small Easter. And we’re not supposed to have small Easters. Ever. Because Easter is big. Theologically speaking, probably the biggest day of the Christian year. We have an extra worship…
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