In last week’s column I referenced a song that I consider to be quite special. This week I find myself doing the same thing. I think songs teach us lessons; music is distinctive like that. It celebrates, mourns, worships, romances and congregates. Our souls find harmony when music resonates through us.

There’s a song in particular that stands out to me this time of year. I consider it a welcome to grace. It’s called “Roll Away Your Stone” by Mumford & Sons.

The opening lyrics begin with, “Roll away your stone I’ll roll away mine, together we will see what we can find.”

The words are straightforward but leave room for interpretation. While the song is almost certainly an homage to Jesus within the tomb, my understanding is a parallel contrast to the Easter story.

I think we all carry underexplored emotions. There are just some things that aren’t as welcome on the surface as others. Feelings such as fear, embarrassment, doubt and despair are complicated. Shameful emotions are easy to feel but difficult to display.

Shame lives in the darkness of judgment but dies in the light of empathy. Both emotions can exist within us, but when we roll away our stones, which one might we find?

Before I go any further I’d like to first clear the air. I’m often guilty of making a series of confident mistakes. In turn, writing about Easter may be one of them. So I’ll blame my lapse in judgment on the underexplored emotion of fear, and attribute my audacity to exploration by way of bravery.

For many people this weekend is one of hope, spiritual renewal and new beginnings. Such sentiments are on full display in seersucker and pastel floral patterns. The sermons will be pointed, families will gather, and Cadbury eggs will be consumed (yuck)! The stone will roll away and seemingly so will despair. But is it that easy?

What if the story of Easter is one of reflection rather than redemption? What if we’ve been thinking of this all the wrong way? Maybe the challenge doesn’t lie in believing, but rather in what is believed.

If I were a person who doesn’t attend church or who doesn’t believe as you do, would you accept me for who I am? If my skin were a different color or my god had a different name, would you crucify me for my differences? Or accept me as the same?

Presumably I’m like everyone else most of you may know. I’m a decent man. I also just happen to write a column many of you enjoy. But would you like me or my writing as much if I were actually nothing like you at all? Would I be judged?

When we judge and condemn others, are we any better than the very ones who crucified Jesus?

Beyond the chocolate bunnies and caramel Cadbury eggs (those I approve), spiritual renewal stands as the capstone of Easter for many people.

Spiritual renewal sounds lovely, but where does it begin?

Mumford & Sons go on to say, “Don’t leave me alone at this time, for I am afraid of what I may discover inside.”

Self-discovery is hard! I try to do it every day and rarely do I like what I see. I’m mean about others in my thoughts. I judge and condemn. I seek virtue but my ego has other plans. I talk of decency and grace, but I’m quick to anger and slow to forgive. I’m a good man, but I’m flawed.

I often wonder if I’ve made life harder than it has had to be? I used drugs, abused alcohol, lied, deceived and hurt those I loved. I burned bridges that I’m still repairing to this day, but thanks to empathy, judgment couldn’t cast me away.

You will judge me and I will judge you, but will you accept me and will I accept you?

My spirit seeks renewal, so I must look within. I’ve rolled away my stone to find empathy and judgment are both still inside.

As I reflect, I need to offer myself grace; it matters. Jesus said, “Father forgive them for they know not what they do.” But can we forgive ourselves as well? Do we have empathy for where it’s needed most? Within us.

In the words of Mumford & Sons, “It seems that all my bridges have been burned, but you say that’s exactly how this grace thing works. It’s not the long walk home that will change this heart, but the welcome I receive with the restart.”

Clay Bowen is a Columbus native who cooked professionally as a chef in fine dining for 12 years and appeared on the third season of Top Chef. He is also a licensed landscape horticulturist. Email him at [email protected].