If a grave is empty, is it a grave? I wonder how Jesus would answer that.

Jesus was buried in a borrowed tomb because He was planning on returning it to its rightful owner after a short weekend.

To believe in the story of Easter is to believe that a wall is nothing more than a door in disguise.

Easter is the one morning in all of history where the dawn came twice; once on the eastern horizon and again in eternity.

When we say it is the whole story, the cross tells us that death is only half the story. And it is by far the least compelling half.

Maybe I don’t have enough beginnings in my life because I fought against the endings that were about to birth those beginnings.

Easter is a time when God turned the inevitability of death into the invincibility of life.

Sooner or later I will realize that the very things I most desperately need are the very things I am unable to give myself. Therefore, I will either be left despising the fact that I am doomed to live out a life that is perpetually empty, or I will realize that an empty tomb is the single thing that will eternally fill me.

What would behoove me to instantly declare God not to be God unless He followed my script in some tediously exacting manner? I must confess that I am less likely to believe that it’s a matter of some narcissistic demand that I freely pen my own script. Rather, I think it’s fear that I’m too inadequate to follow God’s.