Easter Vigil and Easter Sunday Sermon

The sermon series during the Triduum (Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter) is best understood when read in chronological order. Therefore, it is best to scroll down to the Maundy Thursday sermon first, before reading the sermon for Good Friday and, finally, Easter. Again, I feel it necessary to make the disclaimer that I relied heavily upon the book by Dr. Brant Pitre, Jesus and the Jewish Roots of the Eucharist: Unlocking the Secrets of the Last Supper, published by Doubleday in 2011.

Easter Sermon, Saturday, April 19 and Sunday, April 20, 2014:

If you were with us on Thursday night and Friday afternoon, you know that I invited you to imagine yourself in the Upper Room for the Last Supper and at the foot of the cross for the crucifixion. I asked that for just a moment, you suspend everything you know in 2014 about who Jesus is, why he came from Heaven, why he died for us and to really suspend that you know how wonderfully the story ends.

Instead, I want you to be a first-century Jew who is a disciple and follower of Jesus - someone watching all of these events unfold, but not really certain why. I want you to tap into the emotion of the moment 2,000 years ago.

When we last left you, you had collapsed on a bed of pillows in the Upper Room on Friday night after scrambling to bury Jesus before sundown which marks the start of the Sabbath. This is the same room where you shared a Passover meal with Jesus and your friends. This is the room where Jesus broke with Jewish tradition and did not bless or drink from the fourth cup of wine which ends the feast of Passover. You were shocked on Thursday night when Jesus said that he will not drink the fruit of the vine until he drinks of it in God's Heavenly Kingdom.

Later that night as Jesus prayed in the garden, he asked God to take this cup from him and you began to wonder if he was speaking of the final cup he skipped.

Then, yesterday afternoon, while watching in horror at the brutal execution of your friend, you heard him say "I thirst" - a guard gave him a bit of wine and in that moment Jesus died. You had a sense that this was the final cup which concluded the Passover meal from the night before. You didn't understand, and still don't understand, how Passover and this crucifixion are connected, but you know in your heart that they are. As you fell asleep on these pillows, watching the golden candle light flicker next to the cup that Jesus had used only 24 hours earlier, his voice echoed repeatedly in your head: "Do this in memory of me."

The Sabbath morning arrives - Saturday. The morning sunlight washes over your face with warmth, but its brightness is so sharp that it makes your eyes feel bruised, even when they're closed. As you sit up, your other friends are sleeping - Peter is snoring loudly in the corner, Thomas is so motionless that you wonder if he's dead, waiting to watch his chest rise or fall with a breath. The table is exactly as it was left on Thursday night. You know that it will stay that way for another day since the work of clean up is forbidden on the Sabbath. Crusts of bread, bones of lamb, leftover Haroseth sauce remain.

As everyone wakes up, conversation about yesterday's events quickly turn into questions about what to do now. Some of your friends want to violate the Sabbath and go to the tomb where Jesus was laid, but you and others make the compelling argument that surely you'll be watched closely and could meet the same fate and that there's no good reason to break the commandment of God to rest on the Sabbath. The decision to stay put is confirmed when word comes that the Chief Priests have requested and received permission to place guards at the tomb.

The day passes slowly. There is much conversation about what Jesus said Thursday night, how he said it and what it all means. You chime in about your own thoughts regarding the skipping of the fourth cup, the prayer in the garden about letting the cup pass from him and Jesus' taking wine at the moment of death. Everyone understands the conclusion you're laying out: That Jesus is the new Passover Lamb. Everyone has different ideas of what that even means, but there is general agreement that if the first Passover lamb saved your ancestors from death in Egypt - how will Jesus as the new Passover Lamb save you and your descendants from death?

Someone asks the question: If the first Passover lamb set our ancestors free from slavery, what slavery does Jesus, as the new Passover Lamb, set us free from?

And yet another of your friends suggests: If the first Passover lamb started the Exodus to the Promised Land, what Exodus and what Promised Land is Jesus, the new Passover Lamb starting? Where are we going? Where is this new Promised Land?

The events that have taken place, the slowness of the day, and the depth of conversation lull you back to sleep. You awaken early in the morning - Sunday morning - the moonlight the only thing illuminating the room. You hear jars clanging and hushed whispers of the women. They are busy cleaning up. You hear them leave, shutting the door behind them as you fall back asleep in utter exhaustion. But you do not sleep for long before the women return in a panic. They are speaking so fast and are out of breath, making it nearly impossible to understand what they're saying.

"The rock's been moved!" they say.

"He's gone - his body is gone!" they wail.

"There was an earthquake! We saw an angel!"

Everyone, it seems, is talking over them, shouting questions. All of these things they say make no sense, but you are filled with dread, wondering if you will have to go into the danger of Jerusalem looking for the stolen body of your friend, Jesus.

Peter and John run out of the Upper Room, but you and the others are paralyzed by fear. If they've stolen the body of Jesus, who knows what they'll do to you!

Peter and John soon return and confirm all that the women have shared: The huge stone that had taken nearly all of you to roll into place has been moved; inside, the burial clothes are placed to one side with the cloth that had been wrapped around his head rolled up and put to the other side; his body is gone. The body of Jesus has, without a doubt, been stolen.

The air in the room is heavy. There is no joy. There is no songs of praise and thanksgiving. There is only the dread associated with the sudden realization that at any moment you could be captured and executed just as Jesus has been. All you want to do is stay in the security and safety of the Upper Room, your fear of the Jews holding you captive there with your friends, your group dwindling with the absence of Jesus and Judas. You feel stuck in an in-between place - a desire to go back to your previous way of life prior to meeting Jesus versus the unnerving sense that this isn't over, that you've not yet reached the end of what you're supposed to do.

The words of Jesus come back to you again: "Do this in memory of me."

Let us take leave of the Upper room and the fear and confusion that is there that morning.  And let us come back to 2014. Here, in this time and space, we know that the group wasn't captured that day - though eventually some were captured and executed for their belief. We also know that Jesus' body wasn't stolen, but that he rose from the dead - appearing to his friends again in the Upper Room and on the Road to Emmaus. We will hear those stories in the coming weeks.

We also know the answer to some of the questions that might have been asked among the disciples: How will Jesus, as the new Passover Lamb, save us from death? Through his resurrection.
What slavery does the new Passover Lamb free us from? The slavery of sin.
What Promised Land does the new Passover Lamb beckon us towards in this new Exodus? Not an earthly land, but the Heavenly Kingdom where Christ awaits to drink with us that final cup at the Heavenly Banquet.

We now know the rest of the story - that Jesus died for our sins and, in so doing, opened wide the gats of Heaven, restoring God's creation to fullness with Him. This knowledge beckons us to rejoice, to sing, to praise - joining the choirs of angels and archangels, saying: "Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!"

Good Friday Sermon

As with the Maundy Thursday sermon listed below, I must give credit to a resourceful book by Dr. Brant Pitre, Jesus and the Jewish Roots of the Eucharist: Unlocking the Secrets of the Last Supper. Published by Doubleday in 2011, I highly recommend purchasing, studying, highlighting, and making notes within its incredible pages.

Here is the sermon for Good Friday, April 18, 2014:

If you were with us last night, you know that I invited you to imagine yourself as one of Jesus' disciples. You were watching Jesus, in the middle of the night, being led away by soldiers at the direction of the Chief Priests. As you watched the scene unfold, you were coming to a slow realization that what happened at last night's Passover feast suggests that your friend, Jesus, is the new Passover Lamb.

After Jesus was taken away last night, you got together with the other disciples. Your adrenaline is pumping high as everyone speculates about what will happen. And the anger and hurt being spoken about Judas is distressing.

Word comes that Jesus will soon be tried in court. You and your friends rush there, but you're afraid suddenly for your own life. You ask the others if you should all hide.

"Won't they arrest us, too?" You ask.

On your way to the Praetorium, you see another one of those Passover Lambs on a cross-shaped skewer and suddenly you're filled with dread that you might be captured and executed.

But you push through your fear for the moment and discover that you're preoccupied with the fourth cup at last night's Passover, the cup that Jesus didn't bless and share, the cup you were certain Jesus asked God to let pass from him when he was praying in the garden.

You begin to think about how Jesus said last night that he wouldn't drink the fruit of the vine again until he's in his Father's Kingdom. You have a deep sense that all of these cups and all of this wine, including the wine that Jesus said was his blood, are all somehow connected.

Suddenly, Jesus is convicted. The crowd goes wild. You have hope when you hear Pilate present Barrabas and Jesus, and asks which should be released. The roar of the crowd to release Barrabas and crucify Jesus is deafening. Their hatred impossible to understand. The reality of Jesus' fate sinks in when you see the cross placed on his shoulders which are bleeding and sagging from the whips he's endured. You strain to see what's on his head and realize it's a crown of thorns digging into his flesh. You understand that they're mocking him as a king. All you want to do is yell and tell them that they have the wrong image, that he's not a king, but a lamb. But the noise makes it impossible to be heard and the vitriol of the crowd makes it impossible to reason with them.

Your mind returns to that fourth cup and the wine when you see the noble women of Jerusalem coming with their jars of wine for the convicted criminal named "Jesus." As a first-century Jew, you know that they are keeping the tradition of giving someone led to execution a goblet of wine containing a grain of frankincense in order to numb the senses. But Jesus never takes this wine from them as he stumbles towards Calvary.

Your anger, fear and adrenaline force you to shove and push through the crowd. Your dear friend, Jesus, screams a deep wail as he is nailed to the cross. He is hoisted up between two men you never even noticed until this moment. You see how weak your friend is as he struggles to breathe. Jesus pushes himself up with his legs, just enough to allow air into his lungs before weakness overtakes him and he slouches down beneath his arms. There is blood everywhere, especially on the cross that seems painted red - like the doorposts on Passover. His lack of oxygen is turning his face blue.

Though the sun was high in the sky, everything turns dark as night. It stays that way for three hours. Women scream. Children cry. Fear grips the crowd that is slowly dissipating as everyone hurries home from the horror before sundown.

You catch a glimpse of the woman you know to be Jesus' mom - Mary. She is clinging to Jesus' best friend in the group - John. Exhausted and under the strain of not being able to breathe, Jesus commends his mom and best friend to take care of each other. His mother, Mary, nods but cannot bear to look up at her son. She doesn't want to see him naked...or suffering...or die.

You watch Jesus closely for some last minute miracle, some sign that it will not end this way. You move closer because it seems that Jesus is trying to say something. Jesus says clearly, "I thirst."

With that, someone dips a sponge in the goblet of wine, puts it on a stick and puts it near Jesus' mouth. As he drinks the wine from the sponge, you realize that this is it - this is the fourth and final cup from last night's Passover - the cup that Jesus had skipped.

Just as it is making sense, you hear Jesus say, "It is finished." And with that, he dies. His body goes limp as he stops breathing, stops fighting for comfort. His lifeless body simply hangs there. A soldier lances his side and a gush of blood and water pour out. That blood and water makes you think yet again of the water and wine that Jesus mingled at dinner last night - the water and wine that he said was his blood of the new covenant.

Jesus, the new Passover lamb, is dead. Now what?

The sun is setting and the Sabbath will soon start. There is a scramble to get him off the cross and get him buried in a tomb before sundown. By the time he's laid in the tomb and you join the others on the walk back into Jerusalem, you are emotionally, physically, and spiritually exhausted.

Collapsing in the Upper Room on a large pillow, the flicker of candle light illuminates the cup on the table from last night's meal. Jesus' voice echoes in your mind until you fall asleep, "Do this in memory of me."

With the death of the new Passover lamb and the staining of wood with his blood, Passover has been completed. With that completion, a new Exodus towards a new Promised Land has begun. Slavery has come to an end. You are now free!

Maundy Thursday Sermon

There have been several requests for the Maundy Thursday sermon. I'm grateful that it spoke to so many. I must give credit to a book by Dr. Brant Pitre, Jesus and the Jewish Roots of the Eucharist: Unlocking the Secrets of the Last Supper published in 2011 by Doubleday. I plan to do an Adult Education Forum on it in the fall as this sermon only scratches the surface.

The sermon from Maundy Thursday, April 17, 2014:

Tonight we celebrate the Passover meal known as the Last Supper. We remember the night when Jesus instituted the Priesthood and gifted us with the Eucharist. We are invited into the Upper Room to, not only remember, but to participate in that sacred moment with Jesus and his disciples.

But our understanding and knowledge of the culture and the time is limited. For that reason, we are limited in our ability to fully engage in the moment with the fullness of our spiritual, emotional and physical selves. There are things that Jesus says which are understood by the disciples and the first-century Jews differently than the way we hear and understand them 2,000 years later. What they heard was shocking, but understandable considering who they understood Jesus to be.

My deepest prayer is that tonight, I can share with you some things that provide a deeper understanding of what happened that night - an understanding that leads to a shocking emotional discovery which challenges you to experience the Eucharist in a radically new way - not just tonight, but for the rest of your lives!

In 2014, we believe in some way that Jesus is the Messiah, that through His glorious death and resurrection we are promised salvation, that the sins we inherited from Adam and Eve as well as the sins we commit both individually and communally are forgiven. But go to the Upper Room and forget that you know what is happening, what will happen and why it's happening.

Go to the Upper Room as a disciple - afraid, curious, worried, and filled with a certain expectation. What is that expectation? As a first-century Jew, you have been expecting a Messiah. As a follower of Jesus, you think that the expected Messiah is now sitting at the table with you in Jerusalem during Passover. And you know that Passover is significant because you grew up with it each year. You've heard the stories since your childhood about how 1,500 years ago your ancestors were slaves in Egypt. To set them free, God ensured their safety through a sacrificial meal: The Passover. You know that they were to sacrifice an unblemished male lamb - 1 year old, which is in its prime - a perfect lamb, undefiled in any way and that in sacrificing it, not a bone could be broken. The blood of the animal was to be spread on the doorposts and lintels, soaking into the wood, indicating a house where the Passover was held so that the Angel of Death would "pass over" the house. Through the blood of the lamb, soaked into the wood, the inhabitants were delivered from death. The blood of the lamb had power to save your ancestors from death.

As a first-century Jew in the Upper Room, you also know that the Passover sacrifice was not completed with the death of the lamb, but with the command to eat its flesh. And you know that Passover was not a one-time act 1,500 years prior, but was an annual event known as a "remembrance." This "remembrance" had been kept alive for 1,500 years and allows you and your descendants to not just remember the Exodus, but to participate in it in "real time."

You know that the Passover had evolved from something that happened one night in all the homes of God's chosen people in Egypt - not only saving them from death - but freeing them from slavery and captivity to become this "remembrance" in Jerusalem each year at the temple.

You grew up going to Jerusalem every year with your family and witnessed the sacrifice of 256,500 lambs for 2.7 million people. You know first-hand how much blood that produces. You know the smell of the lambs being roasted. You've seen how the lambs are skewered with rods, in the shape of a cross. The 256,500 crucified lambs are everywhere!

In that Upper Room, you know that Passover night was often referred to as a "night of watching" because during the first Passover, families kept prayerful watch to make sure the Angel of Death passed over them and because in your own time, there is a watching for the coming of the Messiah.

And you now find yourself in an Upper Room with your friends, Jesus assuming the role of the father of the house. Conversation abounds as Jesus gets up and washes Peter's feet first, then Judas, then others, and even you! Jesus whispers warnings of betrayal - suddenly the air gets tense as eyes dart around with suspicion, fear and accusation. Things settle down as Jesus begins the meal. This is no ordinary meal, it's a Passover meal. You've already noticed that it's like no other Passover meal you've ever experienced.

Since you were a child, you've known the ritual and routine of Passover:
- The pouring out of the blood of the "perfect" lamb into a sacred vessel.
- That the vessel of blood was given to a priest in the temple who splashed it onto the altar, representing the one blood of God's one family and done for the forgiveness of sins.
- You've seen the lambs skewered on a cross.
- You know that the death of the lamb doesn't complete the Passover sacrifice, but eating the lamb does.
- And you know that at the eating of the lamb, there are four cups of wine that must be consumed in a certain order for a certain reason accompanied by certain prayers.

These steps were known as the "seder" or "order." Everyone would know the order of things to come that night, even your non-Jewish, Greek-speaking friends who called the Passover by its Greek name "Pascha" or "Paschal." What happens around you in the Upper Room that night would one day be referred to, not as the "Passover Mystery", but the "Paschal Mystery."

As part of the Jewish Passover custom, you and your friends, including Jesus, have been fasting since 3:00 p.m. - the hour of the evening sacrifice. Exactly 24 hours before the most gruesome death you've ever seen. But we've not come to that yet. You're still in the Upper Room, perhaps hearing a stomach growl from hunger.

Jesus sits at the head of the table, just as you've seen your dad do every year of your life at Passover. With him, you recline at the table fully aware that such posture symbolized freedom, the freedom won for you in the Exodus following the first Passover.

The first of the four cups of wine is prepared as Jesus mixes the wine with a little water for the "cup of sanctification." You know this as the "Kiddush" cup. Jesus says the typical Jewish blessing: "Blessed are you, O Lord our God, King of the universe, who creates the fruit of the vine."

After the blessing, the food is brought out, but not yet eaten:
1.) Unleavened Bread - Symbolizing the haste with which your ancestors left Egypt, not giving the bread time to rise.
2.) Dish of Bitter Herbs - Symbolizing the bitterness of 40 years in the desert.
3.) Bowl of Sauce - known as Haroseth.
4.) Roasted Lamb - Set on the table, the lamb is referred to as the "guph" or "body" of the lamb.

The food is laid out, but the second cup, known as the "Haggadah" cup - or the cup of proclamation - is mixed, but not drunk. Your dad, and now, Jesus, proclaims all that God had done for them in freeing Israel from the bondage of slavery in Egypt. He also reminds you of the meaning of the different foods in front of you. This was the heart of the meal. Everyone burst into song, praising God by singing Psalms 113 - 114.

After you finish singing, the meal would be eaten after a blessing over the unleavened bread: "Blessed are you, Lord God of all creation, who brings forth bread from the earth." But Jesus adds to this traditional blessing and says: "Take. Eat. This is my body. Do this in remembrance of me."

The food is passed around and amid the noise of a busy dining room, you overhear Jesus say something about betrayal. From your vantage point, you can tell by his face that Peter is defensive as Jesus nods to him and holds up three fingers, saying something about a cock crowing before sunrise. You strain to hear exactly what is being said, but Judas blocks your view as he stretches across the table to dip the unleavened bread into the Haroseth sauce. The room goes silent as those next to Jesus look with horror - not at some breach of etiquette by Judas, but because of some revelation you couldn't hear over the noise. They're all staring at an otherwise oblivious Judas whose money sack falls out of his lap and lands loudly on the floor in the midst of the sudden silence.

After the meal, you know the third cup of wine comes and is blessed. This is the "Berakah" cup. Instead of the usual prayer, you hear Jesus say something different and strange. He tells all of you that this cup is the New Covenant in his blood which will be shed for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins.

As a devout Jew, you're fully expecting now the fourth and final cup of wine which concludes the Passover meal. This is the "Hallel" cup - the cup of praise. But, instead of the fourth cup, Jesus says that he will not drink the fruit of the vine until the day he drinks it with you new in the Kingdom of his Father. Suddenly, Jesus and everyone else sings some hymns, gets up and goes out - walking towards the Mt. of Olives. You're confused. Without drinking the fourth cup, Passover is not complete!

You and your friends follow Jesus, murmuring among yourselves, trying to make sense of everything you've seen and heard. Jesus goes into a garden, known as Gethsemane. He falls to the ground and cries out just loud enough for you to hear: "Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me." Later, you hear Jesus pray again, saying, "My Father, if this cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done." One more time, a third time, you hear Jesus pray about drinking from the cup. You wonder: "Does he mean the fourth cup that was skipped at the meal, the one that would end the Passover?"

It all starts to make sense to you - Jesus said that the third cup was his blood - just like the blood of the lamb at Passover. Jesus said to eat the bread that was his body - just as eating the "guph" or "body" of the lamb was part of the Passover tradition. Jesus even said to eat and drink these things in memory of him using the word "remembrance" which is more than a memorial, but a full participation in the first Passover 1,500 years earlier.

It suddenly occurs to you that Jesus is the new Passover Lamb and your heart sinks as you realize that the Passover Lamb doesn't make it out alive.

You hear a ruckus and see Judas walking fast, leading a group of Chief Priests who are surrounded by soldiers. Jesus is arrested and taken away.

You follow as far as you can, but stop in your tracks and stare at a home along the way. Outside their door, you see a slaughtered lamb on a cross next to a wooden door frame stained with blood.

You wonder: "What does this all mean?"

You think: "We didn't have the fourth cup! We didn't finish the Passover Meal!"

Jesus is being pushed farther away from you, but he looks over his shoulder and makes eye contact for a brief moment. And though he doesn't say anything, you get the sense that he is saying, "All for you!"

Imagine That...

There are many groups and individuals who are getting prepared for Holy Week. It's easy to get caught up in the busy-ness of it all, but we must remember that as we approach this solemn and sacred occasion we are to move slowly, prayerfully and in a deep spirit of reflection. Our movement through Holy Week is not merely an intellectual exercise, but is deeply emotional. We are invited by the Church to enter into each celebration by tapping into the emotion of the original event. We must make every effort to FEEL Holy Week.

PALM SUNDAY

 



On Palm Sunday, we should allow ourselves to get swept up in the fanfare of Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem. Much like a ticker-tape parade for World Series or Super Bowl Champions, we gather with enthusiasm at the sight of the Messiah. Our palm branches are waved with vigor, our spirits are uplifted and our souls soar at the thought of a victorious Messiah! We do not rush to the end of the story that awaits us at the end of the week. There will be time for that. The hope and promise that Jesus brings is believed and embraced.

 

MAUNDY THURSDAY

 



On Maundy Thursday, our imagination takes us into the Upper Room. We gather around the table with Jesus and his disciples. We witness and experience the command that Jesus gives to wash one another's feet. We are reminded that discipleship means that we are called to serve, not to be served. The great act of humility unfolds before us - not only the humility of washing another's feet, but of allowing Our Lord to wash our feet! To wash and to be washed fills us with an emotion of great joy and reverence.

When the bowls and towels are put away, our attention shifts to the breaking of bread and Jesus' institution of the Holy Eucharist. In that moment, Jesus gives us the New Covenant, a covenant that we celebrate and acknowledge 2,000 years later! The depth and breadth of His presence is made real as we acknowledge His Body and Blood in the Eucharist.

We then walk with Jesus and the disciples to the Garden of Gethsemane. It is there that Jesus invites us to pray with him. We envision Jesus' spiritual torture even before his physical one begins as he sweats blood and begs God to "allow this cup to pass" from him. It is easy to imagine the disciples exhausted from their shared meal and the stress of the weeks leading to this moment. They fall asleep. We, however, devote ourselves to remaining awake with Jesus. By signing up for one hour, we sit with our Lord in prayer, anticipating the crucifixion. We hear the guards coming for Jesus and watch with horror as Judas kisses Jesus on the cheek, the triumph of Palm Sunday evaporated into a fog of deception that leads to the next moment...

 

GOOD FRIDAY

 



Good Friday is a day of great solemnity. It is not a day for work or errands or parties. By all accounts, it's a sad day as we imagine that Jesus has been handed over by one of his friends the night before this moment. Jesus is tried, handed his cross, and executed. This is the day that Jesus died for our sins. It is such a difficult and painful day that, if we enter into the experience with the fullness of our imagination and emotion, the word "good" in its title gets caught in our throats with the mere thought of its ironic use.

We reflect and acknowledge that Jesus died for the sins of humanity in general, but the real pain enters our soul when we admit that Jesus died for our individual sins as well. We should be pained by his pain. "Passion" means suffering. That's why it's known as the "Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ." If we have a sense of "Com-Passion" then we "suffer with" Christ on the cross. It is there that we quickly recognize that Christ suffers with us in our pain and suffering. We are never alone!

EASTER VIGIL

 

 

We have spent Good Friday focusing on our sins, communal and individual. The pain of watching Jesus suffer has been great. Like Mary Magdalene, we run to the tomb at the earliest possible moment. We discover that it's empty! The tomb is empty! Our sins - my sins- did not put an end to the final victory that belongs to Christ. The darkness of sin that shrouds the world is shattered by the light of Christ!

 

A fire blazes outside. A candle that will burn brightly through Pentecost and with each baptism and funeral will represent the power of that fire. The church remains dark through the readings as we sit with the reality of our world. After hearing scripture passages that tell the story of humanity, we sing the Gloria with gusto and fervor. The lights come on. The bells are tolled. Holy water is sprinkled to remind us of our baptismal promises. We are invited to say "Alleluia!" at the top of our lungs.

 

We imagine the confusion that the disciples had on Easter morning, but we know something that they don't at that point. We know the meaning of it all. We know what it means. And it's so magnanimous, that we no longer pretend to be ignorant of what's happening. We rejoice. We celebrate. We give thanks, praise and glory to God for the raising of His Son, our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ!

 

Alleluia!

 

Can you imagine such a thing? Then, let's do so together!