Back in 2011, I began my Easter sermon at Pinnacle with a joke:

A passenger in a taxi leaned over to ask the driver a question and tapped him on the shoulder. The driver screamed, lost control of the cab, nearly hit a bus, drove up over the curb, and stopped just inches from a large plate glass window. For a few moments everything was silent in the cab, and then the still shaking driver said, 'I'm sorry but you scared the daylights out of me.' The frightened passenger apologized to the driver and said he didn't realize a mere tap on the shoulder could frighten him so much. The driver replied, 'No, no, I'm sorry, it's entirely my fault. Today is my first day driving a cab.... I've been driving a hearse for the last 25 years.'

I don't remember where I got the joke, nor do I really want to remember. But I do remember why I told it, because there's an old tradition about Easter in some parts of the church, that on Easter believers should go out of their way to laugh. 

We're supposed to laugh the laugh of resurrection in the face of death, which is meant to be a laugh against the Devil. 

I'm told that Martin Luther once said that the best defense against evil (or as he said it, the Devil) is healthy laughter. There's something to that, so much so that even a bad joke can get a belly laugh on Easter.

We're still in Lent, though, which is meant to be a more solemn, reflective, even quiet time. I hope you find Lent that way, but I also hope that if you're taking the time to experience all that Lent can offer your spiritual life you're also remembering—deep in your spirit—the joy that waits for you. 

So now, even in Lent, this might be a word about Easter worth remembering. 

Embrace the joy of life in Christ even through the harder parts of your life—not to deny pain or difficulty, but to remember that Christ is sovereign and raised from death, and that he is with you every moment. He is Risen!

Let's live that truth—with a quieter chuckle now, and a hearty laugh on Easter!

“And I heard as it were the voices of a great multitude………Saying Alleluia for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth.” ~ Revelation 19:8

At long last, we get to sing “Alleluia.” And I am not necessarily referring to the long forty days of Lent. I am referring to that seeming eternity between Maundy Thursday and Easter Sunday morning.

It’s bad enough having to refrain from using the word “alleluia” throughout lent and focusing on sacrifice, but it is harder still to hear the words “Our Lord is dead.” There are many free-church traditions that simply will not say it. I understand. It’s tough. It tastes like blasphemy on its way out of the mouth. It sounds like blasphemy when it reaches the ears. But it was true for three days. And we feel the pain and emptiness of that truth when we say it and hear it.

But then comes Sunday and we are refreshed, renewed, and re-energized with one simple word: “Alleluia!” The word is so powerful we wrap it in the wonderful announcement: “He is risen! He is risen indeed!” What a prelude to the one word that fits all Christian traditions in all languages on earth and in heaven: “Alleluia!”

Sing it with your heart. Sing it with tears of joy. Sing it in the face of death. Sing its light into darkness. Sing “Alleluia!”.

Prior to coming to Pinnacle, Marilyn and I served Metropolitan United Church in London, Ontario. One Easter the children were given little bells as they entered the sanctuary on Easter Sunday morning. Their assignment was to listen for the word “Alleluia”. Every time they heard it they were to ring their bells. It was an incredible experience.

Sing and live your alleluia. Ring the bells of heaven!

On Easter Sunday we gathered for our celebration of Jesus' Resurrection with all the pomp and circumstance that come with this sacred day.  The sanctuary is full, music is grand and we share in great "alleluias" as our message reminds us how God saved us.

And now the day is over and things have gotten back to normal, except maybe a few deviled eggs left in the fridge, and the sugar comas we are recovering from due to the jelly beans and chocolate bunnies we ate, everything seems to have returned to normal.  But it feels odd to return to our daily routines after such a triumphant and glorious day.  I keep wanting to ask myself, what happens now? 

Each gospel describes the disciple’s response a little differently.  Matthew describes the disciples returning to Galilee and worshiping Jesus.  Mark describes the disciples gathering together waiting for confirmation.  Luke explains how some left and some stayed, and John depicts them essentially doing nothing.  But no matter what each gospel explains about the disciple’s immediate reactions to Jesus’ resurrection, Jesus’ response is the same.  He says, “The Father sent me and now I send you.”  We too are being sent.  We are being sent back into the world to our homes, jobs, schools and activities changed by Jesus’ resurrection.

That is why these days after Easter are so important and yet have such an odd feeling about them because we are being sent back out into the world that ignores, forgets and denies Jesus day after day.  This is a day we are called rise in newness to our life with Christ.  This is the day that we celebrate what Paul means when he says, “We are no longer slaves to sin but alive in Jesus Christ!”  It is a great day because Jesus' resurrection doesn’t just happen on Easter, but every day. 

The lessons of Easter go beyond Easter clothes and special meals.  Easter is about the resurrection of our whole life, and to stay the same or return to the way things were before, is to stay in the tomb.  Every second, every experience, and every person is changed because of it.  Jesus has risen!  The resurrection pours glory over every sorrow, it whispers hope to the hopeless, it leads in the darkness, it is victory over death, and it is life to the lifeless.

It makes sense that we go back to our regular routine because we are the ones who are sent out to point out the signs of Easter.  The sounds of God’s Choir singing to the tune of children’s laughter, the gathering of God’s family around a dinner table, the worry and fear that are comforted by the presence of Jesus, the melody of Easter Orchestra found in the birds singing, trees clapping and wind whispering, and in the message of Jesus’ presence found in the kind words, supportive hugs and presence of our loved ones around. The signs of Easter are happening all around you.  Where do you see the signs of Easter today? 

Earlier this week, I spent time in conversation with some women from the church reflecting on what our earliest memories of Jesus are? Some of us reflected on songs or friends we had learned and made in Sunday school or Vacation Bible School, memories of the snack that was served.  My first memories of Jesus are always red Cool-Aid in Dixie Cups and goldfish crackers. It was the weekly snack served during Sunday School.   We also reflected on our earliest memories of Lent, Holy Week and Easter. For many of us that meant memories of Easter outfits, frilly dresses and socks, white gloves and hats.  There were those who remembered hunting for Easter Eggs or attending services with our family. Others recalled the smell of fresh baking bread for a meal on Easter afternoon.  My earliest Easter memories include picking out flowers, usually azaleas or daffodils, from our yard and bringing them to church to place on the cross outside the church.  By the time everyone filed into the sanctuary Easter morning, the cross out front of the church would end up entirely covered in flowers.  Last week, I had a chance to visit this church where I grew up, and the cross was still there, waiting to be decorated with flowers Easter morning. Those early memories anchor my faith to this day.

 Whether you have early memories of Jesus and the seasons of Easter or Lent, or if church is something relatively new for you as an adult, the Easter season is a sacred time in the life of the church.  Take time to share memories of past seasons with those you love and care about or make some new ones. Easter is a opportunity for God’s new life to be reborn in each of us. I hope you will make the most of this sacred season.