Alleluia. Christ is risen. I wonder what that means for you today and why it matters. I don’t think we can understand what today really means apart from this past week. Without Holy Week we risk coming to this day and asking, “Risen from what?” We risk coming to this day believing it is only about Jesus’ resurrection and not our own. And what good is it to us if Jesus has been raised but we have not?
The Second Sunday of Easter - John 20:19-31 By 22Kartika - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, Wikimedia Commons Every year I come to this day - the Second Sunday of Easter - and I wonder what difference last Sunday -…
Alleluia! Christ is risen! It echoes in here when I say that, sort of like it might in an empty tomb. Most everyone is at home, keeping to themselves. Anxiety is in the air. There are no overflowing crowds celebrating Jesus’ resurrection. People are not showing up dressed in their Easter finest. There are no fancy dresses or hats. There are no “eggstravaganzas" or kids gathered with Easter baskets. Friends and family are not sitting down together for a big Easter feast. It’s been a time of turmoil, chaos, and loss. People are shaken, as if by an earthquake. The future is unknown and uncertain.
Jesus’ resurrection is a call insisting you and I give existence to more life, whether for ourselves or another. We are the ones to continue the story of resurrection. We are the ones to give concrete existence to resurrection.
A collection of sermons preached at St. Philip's Episcopal Church, Uvalde, Texas, for Holy Week and Easter Sunday 2019.
This is your resurrection. This is your Easter. This is your feast day. And that is true for every one of us here. Regardless of who you are, what you’ve done or not done, what has or has not happened in your life, what you believe or don’t believe, the promise remains, hope abides, and the call persists.
We all come to dividing lines in our lives. It might be a heart attack, the death of a loved one, a divorce, the loss of job, a shattered dream, an aging body. But it might also be a graduation, a marriage, the birth of a child or a grandchild, a retirement, an unexpected opportunity. In some way our lives are a series of dividing lines. Every one of you could look back and see the dividing lines in your life; the questions that were raised, the choices you made, the struggles you faced, and the ways in which your life changed.
Baptism doesn't happen just in the font at the back of the church. We’ve been taught and come to believe there is only one baptism in the church. And I think that is right, but I want to put the emphasis on “in the church.” In the church there is only one baptism. In life we are baptized over and over and over again.
Does my life matter? Do I make a difference, and if so, how? I suspect we all struggle with these questions or questions like them. I’m pretty sure that at some level they are always with us. And we don’t just want someone else to say yes. We want to be able to say yes for ourselves.
Regardless of when or how those questions come up I think they are grounded in a deep longing and desire for abundance in our life. We want to be an abundant people. We want to live an abundant life.
I suspect we all live with our own version of what is and what isn’t possible. And most of the time we live our life based on what we consider to be possible. We consider the range of possibilities and then we make a decision, choose a direction for our life, take our next step, all within the boundaries of what is possible. But what if the impossible can be made real? What if the impossible really does happen? What if the impossible is possible?