There are multiple preachers this morning ... preaching "Resurrection." It is not only the witness of Scripture that preaches "Resurrection," and thankfully, not merely the words of the preacher. Choirs and musicians are trumpeting that same good news ... joined in chorus by those who fill the pews. We make sense of this Greatest Story Ever Told using all five of our senses, and not only our ears. Our eyes behold the beauty of a sanctuary, all dressed up for a party. The noses delight in the aroma of lilies. We touch hands with one another as we exchange the peace of the Risen Lord, and finally our taste buds - bread and wine on our palate - the Body and Blood of the Risen Christ. Our senses working in harmony to preach the powerful message that Christ is Risen! He is Risen indeed. But there seems to be one discordant note - one jarring counterpoint to the beauty which this morning surrounds us.

Perhaps you've noticed the cross behind me. In terms of aesthetics, that cross really can't hold a candle to other elements of our chancel ambiance - and yet that cross has its own message on this Easter morning. Not made of fine silver or gold; not bright like our cross of stained glass. This cross is of iron forged into steel ... and once helped support a mighty building - in a previous life that cross was a cross beam, if you will, part of the world Trade Center. It was carted from the rubble, claimed by a fireman, and fashioned into the shape of the cross. Hatred made the raw material for the cross available; faith made that raw material into a cross. I talked with a city firefighter this morning, and he said many of the firehouses in the five boroughs have such a cross: some somewhat crude ... others more ornate. All, however ... in the shape of destruction and death: that is, a cross.

The passage of time, less than eight years, dulls but does not erase the memory of that Tuesday morning ... which could be called, "America's Good Friday." If that cross could talk ... just imagine the message. The horror of that awful day, with the twin themes of destruction and death. Actually, for those with ears to hear, crosses can talk - even that one - maybe especially that one. Not with words, of course, but crosses talk by the very symbol of what they represent. Always the twin themes of destruction and death. And no matter how much we turn crosses into beautiful jewelry or stained glass which catches the sun - the message of the cross is the same.

For instance, this morning my granddaughter was given a tiny cross that she wears on this, the day of her baptism. It's a pretty gold cross - and it will mimic the cross which will be water marked upon her forehead on this, the day of her baptism. If those two crosses could talk, the one of gold and the one traced invisibly ... what would they say? Well, like any cross talk, it would all be about destruction and death. As St. Paul reminds us in Romans 6 - "Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death...." No parents want to hear those words at the time of their child's baptism. Believe me, no granddaddy wants to speak them. Unless, that is, we play out the thought of St. Paul: "Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life." You see, the cross may talk, speaking destruction and death - but it is God who has the last word!

Now the reason I began a joyful Easter morning with words of destruction and death is this - unless we know what humanity was up against prior to Easter - we can never truly appreciate the magnitude of that first Easter Day! Friday is about death. But the third day has arrived. Friday was about destruction, but the third day has arrived. Friday was about omega: the end, but the third day - the third day is all about alpha - a new beginning. It's about new life. It's about "He is risen indeed." And in a world filled to the brim with bad news - the good news of the third day is about time! It's about time good news comes our way.

Every Easter story begins with broken hearts at the breaking of dawn - and folks about to visit a cemetery. If it is true as they say, "It is always darkest before the dawn," then the "just prior to the dawn" of the third day must be pitch black to those who love Jesus. They have seen the cross, and it isn't pretty! They are filled with despair, these followers of Jesus, at the death and destruction of Golgotha. For all the world it seems as if the Jesus story is over. On a Friday, the words "The End," were written to the life of an extraordinary man ... but only a man. If the story ends on Friday, as one person has written, then the followers of Jesus are now officially "the alumni of the Jesus school of religion." They are now former students of an inspiring, charismatic teacher. In short, if the story ends on Friday, we can close out the Gospels ... and you and I would be observing the fourth day of Passover (pass the matzoh please).

But the story does not end on Friday, although the followers of Jesus - trudging toward the cemetery - can be forgiven for believing so. After all, they saw the cross! They saw three crosses, more terrible than that cross from twin towers. They saw three crosses, not beautified by gold, nor made brilliant by the sun through stained glass, they saw the bloodstained crosses of rough wood. The followers of Jesus witnessed death: up-close-and-personal. And for sure they thought the final chapter of a remarkable life had been written. But then arrived: the Third Day. And each Gospel writer, in his own fashion, tells the same story with different details ... but a story with a PS which shouts out to the world: "... you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here." Friday is omega, the end; the Third Day, however is alpha, a new beginning. In other words, for you and me, this is not the fourth day of Passover ... this is the third day.

Christians for 2000 years have been talking up "the third day' like there's no tomorrow - because the third day promises every tomorrow. For 1600 years Christians have been reciting together the creeds of the Church ... all proclaiming, "crucified, died and was buried ... and "on the third day."

And so on this glad Easter morning ... we know how it all turns out. How appropriate on a day like today, to be baptizing little Katie Shea ... this child of God - this grandchild of the pastor. Every time a child is baptized ...we wonder who this child will grow to be. It's only natural. But whatever comes Katie's way ... we know how her story ends. Her story ends in the same way your story and my story will conclude: not with omega (the end), but with alpha ... and a brand new beginning!

If the cross could talk, any cross, it would tell a story of destruction and death. But the cross does not have the last word. This morning, it is an empty tomb with the last word. Last words, actually. "He is Risen!" Yes, Christ is Risen! He is Risen, indeed!