Jesus said to [Thomas], “Was it because you have seen me that you believed? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe.”
~John 20:29
 
Keep your proclamations of grandeur.
Give me an easter as small as a seed.
One that can be planted while it’s still cold outside.
One that can be watered with tears,
and demands time and patience to grow.
I don’t need to know how large it will become,
how long until it blossoms,
or even if it will be pretty.
I only want it to grow roots that dig deep down,
striving for life in the underbelly of the world.
Spare me the cosmic promises of other-worldly escape
and point me to the Sacred possibilities within reach.
Tell me again about how the nutrients born from decay
keep even the saddest places brimming with potential for life.
– Rev. M Barclay, enfleshed
 
Easter never seems to hit with a bang, just a growing sense of wonder and possibility, and, dare we say it, faith for us “of little faith.” Join in the growing chorus. Come and remember. Come and find your strength.

​Readings: Acts 1:3–5, 12–14 † Psalm 41:1–4, 12–13 † Romans 7:1–12 † John 20:19–31

​Now faith is the essence of things hoped for, the conviction of that which is not seen. 2 By faith, indeed, were our ancestors approved.
~Hebrews 11:1-2
 
We celebrate, we lean on and lean in to what we do not see. Faith and science are by no means enemies, but they are different “animals”, gathered, as it were, in a sustainable, verdant, and peaceable kin-dom that at its best allows for the flourishing of life. We do not believe in science as much as we observe it (or do our best to do so), and test it.
 
Faith is about belief, about trust and commitment. Faith too we test, but perhaps in a more functional way, like art. Memory and storytelling, the wonder-filled search through the ages for truth, meaning, and significance, for what is reliable and what endures and makes for flourishing, the essence of a thing—these are the practices, the disciplines, and the outcomes of faith which traffics in the ineffable.
 
Mary and the other disciples with her seek faith at the tomb in John’s telling (John 20:1-18). There is no certainty; little can be authenticated here from a scientific perspective. But there is much to be done of the work of faith, and, with fear and trembling, they are about it. And they look across the ages to invite us in.
 
The writer to the Hebrews expands the notion that our story is seeded by the inspired and faithful actions of others who gave of themselves to what is not seen with outcomes that demonstrably renewed life for many. Life begetting life. New life from death. Resurrection, as it were—even and especially in this time. Thanks be to God!

Readings: Easter Day—Principal Service: Isaiah 49:1–13 † Psalm 18:2–11, 16–19 † Hebrews 11:1–2, 23–24, 28–39 † John 20:1–18

​Rejoice heavenly powers!
—Exsultet
 
For three days Esther fasted and Judith kept vigil, the exiles came home from Jerusalem and the Hebrews marched to the waters of Marah. For three days darkness afflicted the Egyptians, Hezekiah lay mortally ill, Jonah was entombed in the belly of a fish. And Saul who became Paul waited three days in blindness before he saw.
 
On the third day Abraham offered his firstborn son, God came down in fire and wind upon Sinai, the boy Jesus was found “in his Father’s house,” and the man Jesus “performed the first of his signs at Cana of Galilee.” Echoing the words of Hosea, Jesus announced the three-day Passover of his death, rest and resurrection.
 
This year, in Year W, we meet some less familiar exemplars of faith. Hagar and Ishmael, Rahab, Deborah and Judith.
 
Tonight marks the culmination of the Paschal Triduum, or as we know it in English, the “Three Days of Passover.” They are for us too days of death, rest and resurrection. Even if only remotely, we march to the waters of baptism. We keep watch for light and for liberation in our own lives. For three days we climb Mount Moriah, Mount Sinai, Mount Golgotha. Those who were lost are found, and those who were exiled come home.

Readings: Genesis 1:1–2, 26–27; 2:1–4 † Daniel (LXX) 3:52–60 † Genesis 21:2, 8–21 † Psalm 27:5–7, 10–14 † Exodus 14:26–29; 15:20–21  † Exodus 15:1–3, 11, 13, 17–18 † Joshua 2:1–14; 6:15–17, 22–23  † Wisdom 5:1–5; 6:6–7  † Judges 4:1–10, 23  † Judges 5:1, 4–7, 12, 24, 31 † Acts 16:13–15 † Matthew 28:1–10 

​Holy God, Holy and mighty, Holy immortal One, have mercy on us.
—Solemn Intercessions
 
Our Three Days service continues tonight at the cross. Good Friday is a day where we give ourselves to the suffering and injustice of the world, and of us. The church prays for the world—the whole world.  Its a day where we take a close look at suffering and power—its use and misuse, and we pray.
 
How else are we to know what we are being saved from and for?
 
And then, there is this: “Don’t be afraid.” It is a refrain of these Three Days, and of our Easter faith. Jesus tells us. The angels tell us. Creation cries out. “Do not be afraid, I am with you.” Indeed, perhaps no more than in suffering. Perhaps no more than on a cross.

​Readings: Judges 11:29–40 † Psalm 22 † Hebrews 12:1–4 † Luke 22:14–23:56

"‘The Teacher says, My time is near; I will keep the Passover at your house with my disciples.’”
—Matthew 26:18
 
Three holy days enfold us now in gathering friends and breaking bread,
in cross and font and life renewed: in Christ, God’s first-born from the dead.
 
The mystery hid from ages past is here revealed in word and sign,
for Jesus’ story is our own: new life through death is God’s design.
 
Christ lifted high upon the tree, before you every knee shall bend
                 and every tongue in praise proclaim: “You are the Holy One. Amen.

The crowds that were going before him and the one following were shouting, saying:
“Hosanna to the Son of David!
Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Holy One!
Hosanna in the highest!”
—Matthew 21:9
 
So Pilate, wanting to satiate the crowd, released Barabbas to them; then he handed Jesus over for flogging and to be crucified.
—Mark 15:15
 
It is a long road we journey in Holy Week. It travels the full extent of the human experience with glimpses of the wonder of God’s faithfulness and transforming power all along the way. The traditional pairing of the Palms—Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem to the excitement of the crowds, with their (our?) equally energized shouts of “crucify” in the Passion narrative is surely jarring for the quickness of the turn. To give ourselves to this turn, to attend to the twists and trajectories the story projects for our own soulfulness is so important to a deep and generative understanding of our human story and the ways of God’s saving grace.
 
These will be more lavishly considered in the Three Days of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and the Easter Vigil, presenting us with eyes and hearts open to Easter morning. But on this Palm-Passion Sunday we get a preview, a taste of what is coming, a shimmer of God’s own motherly sorrow and passion for a world that condemns and crucifies and yet echoes God’s own Spirit in overcoming the worst we are capable of with transforming and self-giving love. 

Speaking again Jesus said, “To what should I compare the realm of God? It is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened.
~Luke 13:20-21
 
God’s Spirit works to bring life, to break through with sustenance and comfort when we are not looking. When we stop to look, we will see the work of the Spirit over time in the real terrain of our lives. What are you noticing this Lent?
 
And we are co-creators with the Spirit. The little things we do help make room for the Spirit to move—to break in with astonishing generosity and hope. Our habits hold the power to seed love and liberation. What habits are you cultivating this Lent?
 
Enter into worship. Let us give thanks for the the one who is at work in our lives.