Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer (Psalm 19:14).

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Fourth Sunday of Easter

Seeds of New Life

Acts 9:36-43

Loren Eiseley was an American anthropologist, naturalist and author. Academically trained as an anthropologist, he is probably best known for his written reflections on the natural world. He looked for meaning in the natural world and in the lives of all sorts of creatures. He died in 1977. I’m not sure I had even heard of him then, but I’ve read a fair bit of his work since, prompted by church people whom I admire.

This morning’s reading from Acts reminded me of Eiseley. Peter is summoned to bring new life to Tabitha and her community. I’ll come back to the connections.

One of Eiseley’s essays is titled “The Secret of Life” [The Immense Journey, 1957]. He explores the academic quest to understand the origins of life itself. But he also ponders what makes life life. What is the secret that is embodied within life itself?

I am middle-aged now, but in the autumn I always seek for it again hopefully. On some day when the leaves are red, or fallen, and just after the birds are gone, I put on my hat and an old jacket, and over the protests of my wife that I will catch cold, I start my search. I go carefully down the apartment steps and climb, instead of jump, over the wall. A bit further I reach an unkempt field full of brown stalks and emptied seed pods.

By the time I get to the wood I am carrying all manner of seeds hooked in my coat or piercing my socks or sticking by ingenious devices to my shoestrings. I let them ride. After all, who am I to contend against such ingenuity? It is obvious that nature, or some part of it in the shape of these seeds, has intentions beyond this field and has made plans to travel with me.

We, the seeds and I, climb another wall together and sit down to rest, while I consider the best way to search for the secret of life. The seeds remain very quiet and some slip off into the crevices of the rock. A wooly-bear caterpillar hurries across a ledge, going late to some tremendous transformation, but about this he knows as little as I.

It is not an auspicious beginning. The things alive do not know the secret, and there may be those who would doubt the wisdom of coming out among discarded husks in the dead year to pursue such questions. They might say the proper time is spring, when one can consult the water rats or listen to little chirps under the stones. Of late years, however, I have come to suspect that the mystery may just as well be solved in a carved and intricate seed case out of which the life has flown, as in the seed itself.
You remember the Gospel reading from last Sunday. The risen Christ has come to be with the disciples as they fish in the Sea of Galilee. Jesus speaks to Peter. Feed my lambs. Tend my sheep. Feed my lambs. Care for my people. In this morning’s story in Acts, Peter is doing just that.

This is one of two stories about Peter stuck into Acts right after the story of Paul’s grand debut which we heard last Sunday. In both stories about Peter, Peter brings the healing power of God, the new life of the risen Christ, to people in need. A man named Aeneas has been paralyzed for years. In the name of Jesus, Peter heals him, and he begins a new life freed from the limitation of his handicap. In this morning’s story, Tabitha has apparently died. And her ministry has died, too. William Willamon describes her as a one-women welfare agency [Interpretation Commentary: Acts]. She provided clothing and assistance for widows who had no one else to provide for them. Her loss was deeply felt. Peter prayed. And Tabitha and her community were given new life.

In both of these stories it is the Word that heals, the Word of God that brings new life. Peter speaks the Word, but it is the Word itself that bears the power of God. It is not Peter’s power that heals; it is God’s. It is not Peter who brings new life to the dead; it is very presence and power of the risen Christ. But Peter speaks that power into being where it is needed.

Although it is God’s power that is manifest in these stories, they are stories primarily about Peter. They are not here to “prove” God’s power to heal or overcome death, nor to illustrate God’s care for the sick and poor. After all, God can heal and overcome death all on his own. God doesn’t need Peter. So these stories are here to tell us about Peter, about the meaning and purpose of Peter’s life. These stories are about the secret of human life, the purpose of our lives lived in a world where the power and presence of the risen Christ are real and afoot.

Peter’s life is about carrying and disbursing the seeds of new life. Peter brings the name of Jesus, the power of God, the seeds of new life, to people who need to know Jesus and his love and healing power. Peter carries God’s seeds of new life stuck to his sweater, piercing his socks, hanging on his shoelaces. And he brings them to Aeneas and Tabitha.

Listen again to just a small portion of Eiseley:

By the time I get to the wood I am carrying all manner of seeds hooked in my coat or piercing my socks or sticking by ingenious devices to my shoestrings. I let them ride. After all, who am I to contend against such ingenuity? It is obvious that nature, or some part of it in the shape of these seeds, has intentions beyond this field and has made plans to travel with me.

We, the seeds and I, climb another wall together and sit down to rest, while I consider the best way to search for the secret of life. The seeds remain very quiet and some slip off into the crevices of the rock.
It’s a wonderful image. Carrying the seeds of God’s presence and new life and disbursing them throughout the world. We come here, to this place and this community to pick up the seeds, to get them stuck to our clothes. We come here to get the name of Jesus, the power of God, the seeds of new life, instilled in our hearts and filling our lives. Come here. Come wearing fleece. Back in the good old days people dressed up for church, put on their best for God. Some still do, and it’s a wonderful practice. But, metaphorically at least, we should all wear fleece sweaters, wool socks and shoes with laces to church. So that the seeds will stick.

We need to be open and intentional about taking the name of Jesus, the words of Scripture, the presence of Christ into our lives. We don’t just listen to Bible readings in worship. In the words of the traditional “prayer for the whole state of Christ’s church and the world,” with “meek heart and due reverence” we receive God’s holy word. We get God’s word stuck to our sweater, piercing our socks. So bring a meek heart and due reverence so that you can really receive God’s word. Or when we gather at the Lord’s table, we don’t just take communion, we receive the most precious Body and Blood of Jesus. We become carriers of the living presence of Jesus.

The secret of our lives, the purpose of our lives, like Peter’s are to carry and disburse God’s seeds of new life throughout the world. To pick them up here and disburse them out there. Eiseley carries the seeds from an unkempt field to the forest beyond. My long haired dog carries them from the back yard onto the living room carpet. Peter carried them from the Sea of Galilee, from his experience of the risen Christ, to Aeneas and Tabitha. We carry them from here to out there, to all of the people and places of our daily lives.

One of the wonderful things is that some of the seeds we pick up here will fall off on their own. If our lives are permeated with the Word of God and the presence of Christ, some of God’s seeds of new life will just fall off as we go about our lives. Without even thinking about it, we will bring God’s healing and love and new life to others.

Other times, like Peter, we are called to be intentional in our presence and our prayers. Our touch or our voice will speak the power of God where it is needed. We will take a seed of new life that we have received from God here and purposefully plant it in someone else’s life.

The secret of life. To disburse God’s seeds of new life throughout the world.

Monday, April 19, 2010

The Third Sunday of Easter

Go

Acts 9:1-20
John 21:1-19


Jesus has a lot to say in the Scripture readings we heard this morning. He seems positively chatty in the readings from Acts and John. If our Scripture inserts followed the custom of writing the words of Jesus in red, there would be a lot of red ink this morning.

This is still Easter season, of course. The Scripture stories we hear are ones that take place after Jesus’ death and resurrection. The Jesus who is talking to Paul and Ananias and the disciples in this morning’s stories is the Jesus who has been crucified and now lives again. The story in John takes place before Jesus’ ascension, so the disciples hear Jesus and actually see him in the flesh, the Jesus who was crucified and then rose from the dead. Paul and Ananias experience Jesus in a vision and hear his voice, but do not encounter him in bodily form. In both stories, the risen Christ has a lot to say.

We live in the world after Jesus’ death and resurrection. So, in a way, these stories take place in our world. These are models for how we might encounter the risen Christ. With that in mind, I went to all four Gospels and reread all of the descriptions of encounters with Jesus after his death and resurrection. It’s an interesting survey.

The Gospel of Matthew. On that first Easter morning, before anyone knew what was going on, Matthew describes the two Mary’s, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary, going to the tomb. There is a great earthquake and first they encounter an angel who tells them that Jesus has been raised. Then Jesus himself appears before them and says, “Do not be afraid. Go.” Go. Go tell the disciples that I have been raised. Go tell them that I will come to them. Go.

A few verses later, Matthew describes the meeting between Jesus and the disciples on the mountain in Galilee. Jesus says to them, “Go.” “Go make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” Go.

Mark’s Gospel as it was originally written probably did not contain any post-resurrection appearances. There is the so-called “longer ending” of Mark that was likely added later by another author. In it, Jesus is described (not quoted) as upbraiding the disciples for their slowness of belief in his resurrection, then Jesus is quoted as saying to the disciples, “Go.” “Go into all the world and proclaim the good news to the whole creation.”

Some years on this Third Sunday of Easter we hear Luke’s story of Jesus’ appearance to Cleopas and his companion along the road to Emmaus. It’s a familiar story. Jesus has been crucified and the two disciples are leaving Jerusalem. A figure whom they don’t recognize walks with them and explains the Scriptures to them, helps them understand the story and its meaning for them. When Jesus shares a meal with them, in the breaking of the bread, they recognize them. When Jesus appears later to the assembled disciples, he offers them peace and again he explains the Scriptures.

The Book of Acts was written by the same author as Luke’s Gospel, so in this morning’s story about Paul’s conversion, we have another post-resurrection occurrence as described by Luke. Saul is on his way to Damascus and is literally blown off his feet by the presence of the risen Christ, who says to him, “Get up and enter the city.” Get up and go. Go into the city. And await further instructions. Go.

When Jesus appears to Ananias in a vision, the first thing he says is, “Get up and go.” And then gives him very specific directions. Go to number 47 Straight Street and lay hands on Saul to heal his blindness. Go. I have much for Saul to do, but first it is your job to heal him. Go.
John’s Gospel tells several stories of encounters with the risen Christ. On Easter morning, Mary meets him in the garden and he says to her, “Do not hold on to me, but go…” Go spread the news.

Then Jesus appears three times to the disciples. We heard the first two on the Sunday after Easter. Jesus appears to the disciples in the locked room, one without Thomas and then again when Thomas is present. Over and over, Jesus says to them, “Peace.” He breathes on them to convey the Holy Spirit, and he says, “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” As the Father has sent me to bring life and redemption into the world, so I send you to bring life and redemption into the world. Go. I send you. Go.

Today’s Gospel is the third time in John’s Gospel that Jesus appears to the disciples. He helps them fish so that they will be nourished. He shares a meal with them. Then, in the focal point of this passage, he speaks with Peter. “Feed my sheep. Tend my lambs. Feed my sheep.” Go. Care for my people. Go.

A few general observations about all of the appearances of the risen Christ. Jesus doesn’t cure anybody. Jesus doesn’t fix any problems. Jesus doesn’t perform any miracles (except, of course, the wondrous miracle of his living presence.) In fact, the risen Christ doesn’t really do much of anything. He does talk.

But as he talks, he doesn’t address any of the burning questions I would like to ask the risen Christ. What is it like, really, to die and then live again? What is heaven like? What last minute advice can you give about salvation? What should I be doing to strengthen my faith and deepen my spiritual life? What did you really mean when you said I should take up my cross and follow you? The risen Christ doesn’t answer any of these questions. In fact, he shows no interest whatsoever in the state of the disciples’ souls.

He just tells them what to do. The risen Christ may not do anything, but he tells the disciples what to do. His words are really more directions than conversation. Jesus doesn’t wait for the disciples’ questions. He initiates the dialogue and tells them what to do.

Go. Go out into the world and tell all people that he is risen. Alleluia. Go preach forgiveness. Go heal the sick and tend to the poor. Go baptize. Paul, go spread the good news to the Gentiles. Peter, go feed my sheep, care for my people. Go. Over and over again, the risen Christ says, Go.

There is a little more to these post-resurrection encounters. On the road to Emmaus Jesus pauses to explain the Scriptures. He helps the disciples fish. He doesn’t miraculously cause the fish to jump into the boat. The disciples do the fishing, but Jesus guides them, so they will not go hungry. Jesus brings peace to the assembled disciples and gives them the gift of the Holy Spirit. They find connection with him over a shared meal.

But what he says to them is, Go. I don’t imagine we should expect to hear anything different from the risen Christ. Go, Jesus says to us.

Come here, yes. Come here to this holy place and gather as the people of God. Come to receive the gift of peace that passes all understanding. Come for food, for physical and spiritual nourishment. Come to gain understanding of the Scriptures, to learn the story and its meaning for you. As important as all of these things are, they are just prep work. They are background, the foundation for the real stuff of Christian discipleship. We come here so that we may be enabled to do what Jesus really wants us to do: Go.

Go share the good news. Go baptize the lost. Go feed the hungry and care for the downtrodden. Go. Jesus wants us to go.

Monday, April 12, 2010

The Second Sunday of Easter

An Extraordinary Season

How are you coming with your Easter discipline?

Most of you heard my Easter Day sermon and may remember that I reminded us all of the opportunity to celebrate the Great Fifty Days of Easter, to observe a holy Easter season with celebration.

We don’t do a very good job celebrating the Easter season. Partly I think we just haven’t been reminded often enough or given the specific tools and practices of holy celebration. And I don’t think we’re good at sustained celebration. We think of celebration as a blitz, blow your whole wad, sort of thing. We don’t know how to celebrate for fifty whole days.

In our corporate worship we do keep this season as a special season of holy celebration. For one thing, we say excessive alleluias. During Lent, of course, we refrain from saying alleluia altogether. During most of the church year, we say it sparingly in worship at singularly wondrous times like the breaking of the bread. But during the Great Fifty Days of Easter we say alleluia exuberantly, excessively, every chance that we get. We have the wonderful alleluia banner hanging in the back of the church. We say it at the beginning of worship, at the end of worship, and over and over every chance we get. In our worship, Easter season is recognizable as a time of abundant alleluias.

The Paschal Candle also burns at every occasion of our parish worship during the Great Fifty Days of Easter. The light of Christ is always within our sight during the Easter season.

I had a professor in seminary who had personal practice that he followed in worship during the Easter season. During these Great Fifty Days he stood to receive communion. There is historical and liturgical justification for the practice. Charlie knew that. But for us… look at the risen Christ and imagine his outstretched arms raising you up. These Great Fifty days we celebrate that we have been raised with him. Consider for yourself, celebrating that awesome wonder by standing during Easter season.

Pick some Easter discipline, some practice to mark these fifty days in your life beyond our worship here. We tend to think of “discipline” as negative or unpleasant. But the point of discipline is always to create something good. Celebration is good. And there’s nothing negative or unpleasant about it. But we do need practice. We need to commit ourselves to the discipline of holy celebration.

Throughout these Great Fifty Days, try treating yourself like God treats you. It’s about living into God’s desire for you. Find some practice of holy celebration that God would applaud. For fifty days, treat yourself like God treats you.

During this past Easter week, on Wednesday these words were posted for reflection on Episcopal Café. They were written by St. Augustine of Hippo back in the fourth century (not the most celebratory of eras in human history).

Sing with your voices,
Sing with your hearts,
Sing with your lips,
Sing with your lives.
“Sing to the Lord a new song.”
Do you ask what you should sing about the one whom you love?
Of course you want to sing about the one you love.
Do you ask what you should sing in praise of him?
Listen:
“His praise is in the assembly of the saints.”
The singer himself is the praise contained in the song.
Do you want to speak the praise of God?
Be yourself what you speak.
If you live good lives,
you are his praise.


Be praise. Live praise.

What does that mean in practical terms? What does it mean to live praise? What sort of holy practices might we undertake for Easter? I’m still thinking. I encourage to consider what sort of Easter discipline might work for you to celebrate these great Fifty Days of resurrection joy. Think, perhaps, in the terms I outlined on Easter Day: Praise, feasting and shared celebration. The goal is the experience the goodness of God’s gift. In Easter God has burst the dam of sin and death; waters of new life are rushing around us. But we have to turn on the tap in our own lives. It isn’t a matter of being cheerful or superficially glad or drawing smiley faces everywhere. You don’t have to be happy to celebrate Easter. It’s about choosing a practice, a discipline that celebrates God’s gift of new life.

A few ideas. As I read and studied C. S. Lewis’ book the Screwtape Letters this Lent, I was struck by the contrast he drew between hell as a place of noise and heaven as a place of music. For me, an Easter discipline would be to enjoy good music. Every single one of the great fifty days. What a glorious celebration.

Or feast. Holy feasting isn’t about quantity or even calories. It’s about enjoying good food. In Isaiah it says that the Lord will prepare a feast of rich foods and well-aged wines, strained clear. Good food, produced from the rich bounty of God’s creation. Make it a practice during these great fifty days to feast on good food.

Or relish relationships. Establish the discipline of time together. To enjoy the blessing and life that God gives in relationships, especially friends and family. Celebrate how, in God’s math, one plus one equals infinity. Share the Great Fifty Days with others.

For those of us who live in the northern hemisphere, Easter always comes at the time when the earth is awakening to the new life of spring. We draw images of Easter from the flowers of spring and the new buds green growth we see all around. What about an Easter discipline of planting? Seeing spring as more than just symbols for Easter and actually doing something to be a part of that new life and growth. Sow something each of the Great Fifty days.

In general, live generously. It’s a great joy to live generously. Easter is all about celebrating God’s abundantly generous gift to us of new life. Live it.

As we look at the church calendar over the course of the entire year, the longest time span, by far, is what we call “ordinary time.” There are many more Sundays in ordinary time than in any of the special seasons like Advent or Christmas or Lent. And that’s good. God is certainly present in the ordinary times of our lives. But there is nothing ordinary about Easter season. This is an extraordinary time. Fifty Great Days to celebrate the resurrection, to celebrate our identity as Easter people. Celebrate this extraordinary season in your life. Alleluia.

Friday, April 9, 2010

Easter Day

The Observance of a Holy Easter

Dear People of God: The first Christians observed with great devotion the days of our Lord’s passion and resurrection, and it became the custom of the Church to commemorate this great gift of new life by a season of celebration and joy. This season of Easter provided a time for new converts to explore the mysteries of life in Christ and experience for the first time the wonder of Christ’s living presence made real in the sacraments and the common life of the Christian community. Thereby, the whole congregation was put in mind of the abundance of God’s grace and mercy.

I invite you, therefore, in the name of the Church, to the observance of a holy Easter, by praise, feasting and shared celebration.

For some of you these words will sound familiar, but somehow not quite right. Maybe you recognize the template for these words of invitation to the observance of a holy Easter season. They are a rewritten version of the invitation to the observance of a holy Lent that you heard on Ash Wednesday. As Lent began 40 days ago, we were reminded of some of the characteristics of the Lenten season. In the early church, it was a time when adult converts were prepared for baptism. It was also a time when notorious sinners publicly sought forgiveness and restoration to communion. And thereby less notorious sinners were reminded that they really weren’t in any holier than thou and they had better repent and seek absolution and renewal of faith as well.

And then when Easter came, what a wondrous celebration it was. In those early centuries of the Christian Church all Christians were converts, adult converts, drawn irresistibly to Christianity by the divine spark of new life they saw in other Christians who were their friends and neighbors. The catechumenate, or time of preparation for baptism, was long. The time of yearning and learning could be years, reaching its final and formal intensity during Lent. And then at the Easter Vigil, they were baptized and invited to the Lord’s Table for the first time on Easter morning. Imagine what that was like for them. And imagine what an example it was to the existing community to witness the wonder and joy of the new converts. For the newly baptized this season after their baptism was known as the mystagogia, the learning of the mysteries. Not in the sense of being inducted into a secret society and learning mysterious passwords and secret handshakes, but in the sense of experiencing what the BCP calls “that wonderful and sacred mystery”—the church. In addition to experiencing the living Christ in communion—in the full breadth of what communion means—during the Easter season the newly baptized heard sermons on what it meant to be a part of that wonderful and sacred mystery, the church…. What it means to be recipients of God’s grace through the sacraments, to know God in worship, to live as a Christian in the world. Those weeks after Easter were a season of wonder for them and a glorious time for the whole community. When all could witness and share in the joy of the newly baptized and be reminded of the wonderful mystery of God’s love that they were all a part of.

Easter season begins today. We did not baptize any new adult converts last night at the Vigil, but we did celebrate with great joy God’s wonderful gift of new light and life, given to us all at baptism. Easter season lasts for 50 days, from today, Easter Day, until Pentecost. After Pentecost, we return to what the church calls “ordinary time.” These are the Great Fifty Days of Easter. We use the word “Great” sparingly in the church. So it means something. The Great Fifty Days of Easter.

We have, of course, just spent forty long days in Lent. Not called “great,” incidentally, the forty days of Lent. The Rev. Boone Porter was a prominent American liturgist who had a major role in developing the current Book of Common Prayer. Around the time it was published, he noted, “It is a strange irony that many church people try faithfully during Lent to observe forty days of preparation, yet virtually abandon Eastertide after going to church on Easter Day.” It is a strange irony. We may not exactly look forward to Lent, but we do try to live it faithfully. And we pretty much know how to do Lent. The church’s invitation to the observance of a holy Lent makes sense. And practices like self-examination and repentance; prayer, fasting and self-denial certainly feel religious. So they must be good practices for faithful Christians to undertake.

But why, as Porter suggests, are we so prone to abandon Eastertide after this morning? It is ironic that we seem more inclined to commit ourselves to enduring the 40 days of Lent than we are to celebrating the great 50 days of Easter. Maybe we’ve all lost a bit of the true wonder and awe of God’s grace and mercy. Maybe the value of God’s resurrection gift has depreciated over time since the first centuries of the church. Or maybe we in the church just haven’t done a good enough job of highlighting holy practices of celebration. I wonder if celebration just doesn’t feel religious or holy enough. Celebrating is a secular thing you do when you land a great job or win the final four. We know how to do that sort of celebrating, but it doesn’t feel sacred like fasting or penitence.

Whatever the reasons for our lackluster interest in Easter season in the past, today is a new day. Today is Easter day. Today is Day One in the 2010 Great Fifty Days of Easter. And I invite you to the celebration of a holy Easter season.

Even if you individually didn’t do much by the forty days of Lent, now it’s time for all of us to celebrate the holy season of Easter. Even those of us who did endeavor to keep a holy Lent need to be reminded that Lent doesn’t earn us Easter. Lent brings rich blessings, and it can help us prepare ourselves for Easter; but it doesn’t earn us Easter. God gives us Easter. All of us. And all of us have fifty great days of Eastertide ahead of us.

So I invite you all to keep a holy Easter season with practices of praise, feasting and shared celebration. In Lent we are called to prayer, fasting and self-denial as practices that take us out of ourselves and help us focus on our need for God and our dependence upon God’s gifts and mercy. It seems to be that the practices of praise, feasting and shared celebration are also practices that take us out of ourselves. Practices that take us out of ourselves in joyful gratitude for God’s abundant gifts and blessing given to us. Easter “disciplines”, holy practices, of praise, feasting, and shared celebration.

Praise God. Sing songs of praise to God. Raise voices in praise to God. Praise God, as the Prayer Book says, for “the splendor of the whole creation, for the beauty of this world, for the wonder of life, and for the mystery of love.” Offer praise. Outloud. Daily during the great fifty days. A different translation of today’s psalm concludes, “This is a day that the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it.” Some of you really want to sing those words. Sing praise this Easter season.

Holy practices of praise, feasting and shared celebration. Feasting, as a holy practice, is all about taking pleasure in the holy. The holy practice of feasting is not about eating or drinking large quantities. Although being grateful for abundance is a good thing. Feasting is about taking pleasure in God’s gifts. It is about noticing and cherishing God’s good gifts of food and friends and family and beauty. Enjoying and cherishing God’s good gifts. The Eucharist, of course, is a feast. Come join the Lord’s feast often these great fifty days. A meal with the first fresh peas from the garden is a feast. Enjoy God’s gifts. Any meal shared in love is a feast. Enjoying and cherishing God’s good gifts. Feasting our eyes and ears on God’s gifts is a holy practice. Listen to lots of Mozart. Walk along the lakeshore. Resolve to listen to the Hallelujah chorus every Sunday in Easter.

Mindful of my own sermon, this morning I cracked open a new jar of chokecherry jelly. Chokecherries grow wild out west and must be picked by hand. And the jelly made at home. It has a wonderful flavor, that brings me special pleasure and also evokes, for me, the grandeur of the western mountains and God’s creation. Chokecherry jelly and toast is a feast. What feast will you keep throughout this Easter season?

Finally, shared celebration. Celebration is infectious. If we really celebrate Easter resurrection, we can’t help but share that celebration. God’s Easter gift knows no limit. Part of sharing that gift the gift of resurrection means doing mission and outreach. Sharing new life with people who need new life. Shared celebration also means coming together in fellowship with other Easter people. In God’s math, when just two or three are gathered in his name, the glorious company of all the saints in light are there, too. Just by gathering, by sharing Easter joy, our celebration becomes glorious across all time and space. We become a part of eternity. Gather together as Easter people to share the celebration that he is risen.

The Great Fifty Days of Easter have begun. I invite you, in the name of the church, to the celebration of a holy Easter season, by praise, feasting and shared celebration! Alleluia!

Easter Vigil

Passage

Please check back. Sermon will be posted soon.

Good Friday

Look at the Cross

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Maundy Thursday

Are You Ready to Go Yet?

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Palm Sunday

Not the Crowd

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