"Beneath the 'Cushion of the Sea'"

2 Easter.A.20
John 20:19-31
The Rev. Melanie McCarley

Even in the best of conditions submarine captains have to contend with a great deal. They have to be aware of the distance of their sub from the seabed, as well as cognizant of unusual formations lurking beneath, around and sometimes even above them. They need to know how much fuel and oxygen have been consumed, as well as a myriad of other details which could spell disaster if not heeded in an appropriate amount of time. The risks of commanding and sailing on a submarine are substantial.

"In the Garden of the Resurrection"

Easter Sunday.A.20
Matthew 28:1-10
The Rev. Melanie McCarley

Journey with me to that first Easter morning, and enter the Garden of the Resurrection. As we listen to the description of that first Easter we quickly come to realize that it wasn’t filled with happiness so much as with fear and confusion, charged with the possibility of hope. As St. Matthew describes it for us this morning, the resurrection was a frightening, incomprehensible event, demanding courage and strength in order to receive the Good News.

"The Crucified God"

Good Friday.A.20
The Rev. Melanie McCarley

The British novelist and playwright, William Golding once wrote: “The crucifixion should never be depicted. It is a horror to be veiled.” This would come as surprising news to Christians of the Middle Ages who went to great pains to depict the agony of the crucifixion of our Lord, employing copious amounts of blood, sweat and tears to convey the extent of our Savior’s suffering. Crucifixes—they’re painful and difficult to behold. It’s a darn sight easier to turn our head from them than to gaze upon a suffering Savior.

"Finding the Face of Christ"

Maundy Thursday.A.20
The Rev. Melanie McCarley

The Russian novelist Ivan Turgenev writes: “I saw myself, in a dream, a youth, almost a boy, in a low-pitched wooden church. The slim wax candles gleamed, spots of red, before the old pictures of the saints. A ring of colored light encircled each tiny flame. Dark and dim it was in the church …. But there stood before me many people. All fair-haired, peasant heads. From time to time they began swaying, falling, rising again, like the ripe ears of wheat, when the wind of summer passes in slow undulation over them.

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