It was Easter Sunday at the Episcopal church, and the service started as it did every year-with the lights in the sanctuary dimmed to help the worshippers imagine walking with the women in the dark to the tomb of their beloved Jesus. Indeed, as was part of the tradition, the parade of worship participants would make their way up to the chancel where the Christ Candle would be lit, and the lights of the sanctuary would brightly shine, and bells in the tower would peal the sounds of joyous resurrection. Yes, the service began as it had every year, but 4-year old Jamal had not been to an Easter Service before. He just sat with mouth agape as he saw all those candles coming down the aisle toward him. Now it may see odd to be celebrating Jesus' birthday after what we've just been through this past week.
Birthdays are celebrations filled with joy and laughter.
What we've just been through this past week has been far from joy-filled. There was no laughter in the garden when Judas betrayed Jesus with the most intimate of signs of friendship-a kiss. There might have been laughter in the praetorian when Jesus was on trial-but it was the laughter of mockery, laughter filled with cruel hate. There were no smiles on the faces of the disciples who hid away in fear in dark rooms. There was no joy on Golgatha when the sounds of hammers echoed over the hills, joining in cacophonous harmony with the screams of those who loved Jesus as they watched him erected on a cross above their heads.