Luke 24:13-35 There is something terribly elusive about Easter. We are familiar with the tough terrain of Holy Week, its betrayal and denial, duplicity and public execution. No matter how boisterous our real or virtual Easter celebrations, we are far less familiar with the elusive terrain of Easter, where it leads or whether we can trust that it leads anywhere but to an excruciating dead end. If you worry that I am overstating my case, read the ending of any of the four Gospe

Text: Isaiah 65:17-25 The first Easter sermon was preached long before Mary stood weeping in the garden, long before a young man told grieving women that the Risen Jesus was awaiting them in Galilee, long before Thomas was out running an errand when the Risen Jesus paid the disciples an unforgettable visit. The first Easter sermon was preached not by a Christian pastor mounting a pulpit surrounded by the beauty and aroma of fresh lilies, with trumpets sounding their glad all

Text: Matthew 28:1-10 When I think of Easter, I think of exactly what it looks like right now outside Cove Presbyterian Church, just south of Charlottesville, Virginia – redbuds in full bloom, daffodils decorating the lawn, an orchestra of bees pollenating almost every flowering tree or plant. Lifelong southerners, like me, are tempted to think that Easter is as natural as the inevitable onset of spring. Whether Easter arrives in mid-March with a chill still in the air or in

Anne Lamott, Presbyterian ruling elder, novelist, and remarkably free spirit grew up in anything but a religious home. That sets the stage for when she writes: Some of you were taught to pray at bedtime with your parents, and when I spent the night at your houses, I heard all of you saying these terrifying words: “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake . . .” Wait, what? What did you say? I could die in my sleep? I’m only se