Easter Faith

Eugene Peterson writes, "The Bible is not a script for a funeral service, but it is the record of God always bringing life where we expected to find death. Everywhere it is the story of resurrection."

With the past forgiven and the future opened with a cross-shaped hole blasted through the grave, the stress is on the present as it stretches through the future into eternity. It is Friday, but then Monday is coming!

† On the Monday following Easter, a business owner must lay-off an employee who has been with his company since the beginning. How will Christ's resurrection guide him?

† On the Monday following Easter, a minister and his wife will move to a remote country church more than two hours further away from elderly relatives dependent upon their care. How will Jesus' resurrection help them continue in God’s ministry while dealing with disappointment?

† On the Monday following Easter, a young woman was raped, later discovers she was pregnant. She decided to keep the child that was conceived in such brutality. She must find a way to go on living despite the unimaginable grief she must bear. How will Christ's resurrection enable her to endure?

† On the Monday following Easter, you and I too must wrestle with the unique challenges our changing world offers. How will Jesus Christ's resurrection help us face life's obstacles?

If Easter is more than bunnies, brightly colored eggs and new clothes... hard questions must be answered. Palm Sunday, the last supper, Jesus praying in the garden, his arrest, the appalling crucifixion and the resurrection has to be more than just an annual story-time hour… doesn't it? The movie of the year may be compelling drama but would you see it every year? I think not. So the question is…how does Easter help us find real answers for Monday morning problems?

Maybe it would help to remember the followers of Jesus as they removed his lifeless body from the cross and laid it in a borrowed tomb? For three years their lives had meaning and purpose. Once, they were preparing for a "New Kingdom" and Christ would be their Messiah. Now, they were holed up like frightened rabbits awaiting the strike of hungry predators. Confused, grief-stricken and deeply troubled the disciples faced a Monday morning filled only with despair.

But Easter morning would bring about a dramatic transformation… “Early on Sunday morning, as the new day was breaking in, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went out to see the tomb. Suddenly there was a great earthquake, because an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and rolled aside the stone and sat on it. His face shone like lightning, and his clothing was as white as snow. The guards shook with fear when they saw him, and they fell into a dead fa

Then the angel spoke to the women. "’Don't be afraid!" he said. "I know you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He isn't here! He has been raised from the dead, just as he said would happen. Come, see where his body was lying. And now, go quickly and tell his disciples he has been raised from the dead…’"
(Matthew 28:1-7)

Jesus was alive! The disciples could restore their broken dreams and continue preparations for a "New Kingdom." Christ was their Messiah after all. No longer would they be frightened rabbits. The now bold followers of Jesus would launch a movement that would change the world. "Hear the Good News! Jesus Christ has defeated death and offers eternal life to all who believe."

† For the business owner, the critical decisions must still be made but the living Christ gives him the compassion and wisdom to provide real help for his employee and friend.

† The minister must still move, but church members begin visiting his parents offering help and support. Jesus Christ is alive and actively involving the faith community.

† The assurance of comfort knowing that She can find peace and safely in the hands of God and through loving community of faith. A living Christ offers assurance during times of crisis.

† We can now wake up on Monday morning in the secure knowledge that we will never again face life's obstacles alone! A risen Jesus will give us much needed hope for the future.

Because Jesus is alive, Easter is never simply a story. Easter is a testimony of faith offering continual guidance and courage to deal with Monday morning decisions we all face in life. Most of all… Easter is the promise of living hope that will enable us to cope with disappointment and tragedy. Christ is risen, he is risen indeed. It’s worth celebrating the resurrection of Christ on Sunday morning. Remember that the tomb, after all, is empty. Christ is alive in us! Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia! Amen.

Bet your eternal life on it!

Yours faithfully,
Pastor Samuel K King-Kabu.
Pastor@st-ansgars-montreal.ca

Biking with Roger (part 6)

It was the long weekend of La Saint-Jean and my wife was attending a three-day conference at Wheaton College in Norton, Massachussets, just to the southwest of Boston. The last time she had attended this conference, I had tagged along, my bicyle attached to the car, and then had set out from Norton on my own for an excursion to Cape Cod, where my had fetched me at the end of the third day. This time I figured I would head in the opposite direction, to the southwest, to explore Rhode Island, Connecticut and, if I made good time, the eastern tip of Long Island.

Planning for the trip was difficult for there were few campgrounds that allowed tents, and none that would take reservations. A massive bridge spanned the opening of the bay at Newport, Rhode Island, but there was no way to get across it by bicycle. Instead I chose the much longer route of taking the ferry from Newport back up to the head of the bay to Providence, and then riding back down the western shore.

The Friday morning, we drove from our motel to the conference site, where we had breakfast together with the other conference attendees. Then I bade farewell to Sheryl and set off along Mass. Hwy 123 westward from Norton. Although two-laned, it was a pretty busy highway. It did have a small, paved shoulder, but one has to be careful on Massachusetts highways, for there is an upward lip at the outside of the shoulder. If one strays to far towards the edge of the road, this lip tends to project one back out into the roadway. I guess this is good for cars. There are no true 'country' roads in that part of New England; one is never out of sight of houses and roadside businesses. In the 'country' they are simply spaced a bit further apart, and there are more trees.

An hour or so brought me into the larger town of Attleboro, a quaint, old-time industrial town. From there Hwy 123 headed south and was less busy. I was paralleling the high-speed rail lines connecting Boston and New York and trains would flash by every half hour or so. Since the line was fully electrified, and so there was no forewarning of a train's arrival. It was hard to get photos of the trains, for at every bridge there were massive steel security structures, designed to keep on from seeing the tracks.

I crossed into Rhode Island via some back road over the tidal inlet which formed the border, and quickly found myself thick in the urban jungle of East Providence. At the first opportunity, I caught Rhode Island Route 1A and headed south. At first it was a typical city boulevard, somewhat like Taschereau, but as I continued towards the bottom of the peninsula, the cityscape began to thin out slightly.

At the bottom of the peninsula, I was turned eastward, to join the main flow of traffic at the point where the 'freeway' from the north ended. It was quite busy as I crossed over a twin set of bridges, spanning yet another tidal inlet. Stopping on the bridge's sidewalk to look around, I could see the tide flowing strongly against the bridgeworks. Below the low bridges were vast marinas, but none of the boats could come any further northwards. Just north of the bridge was a bike path, crossing an old railroad trestle. As I had no idea where it might lead, I stayed with the road.

The far side brought me to the town of Warren. I turned southwards, through the town, and thankfully leaving the main flow of east-bound traffic. The line down the middle of the town's main street was painted in red-white-and-blue, and patriotic posters were everywhere. I passed a couple of churches called 'Eglise' and dedicated to 'Saint-Jean Baptiste', with some services given in French. At length, I came a point where the bike path crossed the main street, so I asked someone coming from the opposite direction where the path led. Through to Bristol, I was told. It was much more pleasant along the bike trail, which ran right alongside the bay for quite a length.

Leaving Bristol, I had to cross over a very high suspension bridge. The sidewalk was must too narrow for my bicycle, so I had to stake my place on the roadway. Although I had a view out over the bay as from an airplane, I never would have imagined so much wind at the top. I could hardly look askance as I fought to control my bicyle and keep it within my narrow space. I was glad to get off. The bridge brought me into Portsmouth and just a little ways south was my campground. It was only about 16:00 when I arrived, so luckily they still had a space for me. I was an hour's cycling away from Newport, but it was the closest campground for tents that I could get.

I learned of a secondary road, the 'naval supply road', that ran along the base of the cliff, right alongside the bay. It made for a more pleasant ride in than the highway, and near the end I passed a line of huge aircraft carriers at dock.

Newport, Rhode Island, is a very trendy, beachfront town. It got so crowded I had to dismount and walk my bike through the narrow streets. Beyond town is a rocky point covered with such vast estates that one truly feels in the country for the first time. I kept going until I finally got to see the open ocean. Then I rode around the point and came back to explore the lively town at dusk.

By the time I was done eating and ready to head back, it was quite dark. Although I was equipped with lights and reflective gear, I felt a bit nervous out on the main highway. Still, I had decided not to take the empty shoreline road after dark, feeling the company of lots of cars to be somewhat comforting. It was an hour's ride back and I was quite happy when my head hit the pillow in my sleeping bag.

(The story will be continued in subsequent editions of the Messenger. Accounts of earlier bike rides can be found at http://rogerkenner.ca/Bike/Bike.html)

Roger Kenner

Dannnebrog

Web Page prepared by:
Roger Kenner & Jette Blair.
Content-New Topics Last Updated: 2006/04/07
St. Ansgar's Lutheran Church - Montreal