009: The End of a Process

February 24, 2010
Mark 15-16

One of the most pleasurable things in life, for me, is processes. I love things I do or see or undertake to be a bit of a drawn-out event. It’s enjoyable to me to go through the process of a process – the anticipation, the various steps along the way, and the final conclusion.

The side of me that wants to be artistic capitalizes on this “process enjoyer” aspect of my personality. My favorite things are process events, like the sunrise, writing a song, visiting friends, or traveling. I like how they are time oriented – meaning, I can’t just do them and be done with them in a brief, momentary slice of time. They require some effort and investment over a span of my life.

Delayed gratification – and anticipation – is one of my personal delights in life, but today I was thinking about the “after” part of a process, or the concluding events of an event.

Mark 15 and 16 highlight the trial, crucifixion, death, burial, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus. In the scope of his life, this process was the concluding events of his life. For 30 some odd years he’d been living along, doing normal things, and these two chapters are the end of that.

Read it slowly and carefully. Pay attention to the details. You might be surprised by what you find. I was struck by how Mark portrays these pivotal scenes in such careful and purposeful strokes of his pen. There isn’t a lot here, when you look at the scope of 30 years, but it’s certainly not scrimping on specifics.

My very favorite part comes at the end, though. Jesus goes up to heaven, and the disciples go out to share the good news. The end of Jesus’s process of life here on earth is the beginning of something new for the disciples. I think that might be part of why I like processes – the conclusion of one is just the commencement of another.

I often find myself pondering conclusion. At the end of class everyday, I usually need to spend some time thinking and analyzing how class went, what went right or wrong or good or bad, and what I’d like to do different or utilize again in the future. As I wipe down the white boards, with the gentle “swishing” of the eraser clearing away the evidence of the previous hour or two, it’s like I can mentally close off one process in preparation for moving on to the next.

But I’m not always like that about every process in my life. Sometimes I don’t erase what is there, and I end up trying to move on before I’ve attained a proper conclusion. It’s fun to reminisce for a time – with the old notes on the board – but there comes a point where I have to stop trying to write everything without erasing anything. I recognize that I need to be more purposeful about this act sometimes. After all, if Jesus hadn’t closed the door on his work here on earth, ours wouldn’t have started.