Jesus lives, and so do we!
Eastertide is a seven-week feast celebrating Christ’s resurrection. Christ is risen, and this present fact changes everything for those who look with eyes of faith. Observing this season is a transforming practice, one that will help us live out our baptism. Romans 6 shows the real, sacramental link between Easter and baptism — we were buried with Christ by baptism, and can now present ourselves to God as those who have been brought from death to life. As one Easter hymn proclaims, Jesus lives, and so do we. [1] Alleluia!

Pressing into our baptisms is an act of will, a choice we must practice. Christ is risen, and we wait for Him to come again. Until He returns we live in bodies and souls, families and communities where sin and death are no longer our master, but are still at work. Jesus has set us free from sin, but we must embrace that freedom. A wise friend of mine was recently reflecting on where she gets stuck: “I have the impression that I too often forget who I am.” Yes! You must remember your baptism, I must remember mine, and we must help each other live as baptized sons and daughters of God.
Men and women who fulfill their baptism consider themselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ (Romans 6:11). Jesus calls us to live free of the curse, not granting it power or ceding hope. We wear His robe of righteousness and share in His incorruptibility. Shadrach, Meschach, and Abednego image the baptized, fireproof in the hottest furnace. By virtue of baptism, we refuse to let sin reign in our bodies — it no longer has power to make us obey its groveling fear, its impatient rage, its survivalist impulses of contempt, apathy, and indulgence. We are empowered to offer ourselves wholly to God, presenting every aspect of our persons as instruments for righteousness.
This is no religious escape into faux perfection. We are transformed, and are continually being transformed. The baptized enjoy a freedom that scandalizes those under the dominion of death. We are fueled by a hope that seems foolhardy to the unconverted. Leanne Payne linked all wholeness to the waters of baptism: “Every conversion or restoration of the life of God in a soul, every liberation from darkness and despair, … every putting on of the righteousness of Christ” is a fulfilling of baptism. Christ’s cross signifies ”a baptismal, incarnational image of being in Christ, participating in both his death and his rising. It includes the reality of our participation in Christ’s obedience to the Father. These realities, absolutely unique to Christianity, are vital to keep before the mind and heart.” [2]
May these weeks of Easter be filled with rejoicing, feasting, and hymns of praise to our risen Lord.
This joyful Eastertide, away with sin and sadness!
Our Lord, the crucified, has filled our hearts with gladness.
My being shall rejoice secure within God’s keeping,
until the trumpet voice shall wake us from our sleeping.
Death’s waters lost their chill when Jesus crossed the river.
His love shall reach me still; his mercy is forever.
Had Christ, who once was slain, not burst his three-day prison, our faith would be in vain.
But now has Christ arisen, arisen, arisen, but now has Christ arisen. [3]
[1] Jesus lives, and so do we, Christian Gellert, 1757.
[2] Leanne Payne, Heaven’s Calling (Grand Rapids, Baker Books, 2008), 121.
[3] This Joyful Eastertide, George Woodward, 1894.
Painting: Glorious Mysteries I: The Resurrection of the Lord, St. Elizabeth of Portugal Church, photo credit Fr James Bradley from Southampton, UK, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons




Lent is a sober season, but also one that can yield great joy. We may resist a full embrace of Lent if diseased introspection is contaminating our confessional. An aversion to repentance grows where we’ve confused it with self-loathing and regretful ruminating over our weaknesses and mistakes. There is neither doom nor shame in true Christian repentance. As we lift our faces to the Father of all mercy, the restoration and freedom He gives scandalizes our self-hatred. Confessional prayer offered unto God ushers in a mysterious joy as we simultaneously face the heartbreaking extent of our need for Christ’s sacrifice, and the unfathomable depth of God’s kindness towards us.
experience. Memories of lives shared together in the breaking of bread, in long journeys, and in the teaching of multitudes must have been vivid ones for many. Beyond memories of Christ’s presence, however, they knew by virtue of His Spirit descending on them at Pentecost that He was always present, indwelling them. In yet a third way, pertinent to what we are here considering, these early disciples knew that when they invoked Him, Christ would “come again” by His Spirit as they gathered to worship, hear the Word, and break bread (make Eucharist) together. [1]
comes responsibility: our loving Father keeps us in the world so that all may know His love for them. When we fear, follow, or join the world we lose our potency because we lose our oneness with God, His people, and our true selves. Lent is a needful, yearly gift. It is a time when we engage in disciplines that remind us of our not-of-this-world-ness. And it is a time when we invite the Holy Spirit to show us the ways the world has wooed us, cowed us, or numbed us. We kneel that we might rise in joy as those who are kept, guarded, sanctified and sent by Jesus.
has been greatly exacerbated by the fact that our education systems, drawing their theories from materialist philosophy, have claimed heaven to be off-limits and have taught us to look within ourselves and to this earth for the ultimate good…








