Isaiah 65:17-25 1 Corinthians 15:19-26 John 20:1-18 Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24

Alleluia.  Christ our Passover has been sacrificed for us;

Therefore, let us keep the feast.  Alleluia.

These phrases compile the Fraction Anthem that we sing or say when the consecrated host is lifted up above the altar and broken, reminding us of Christ being lifted up upon the cross, his body broken for our salvation.  In the Rite One words of Institution within the Eucharistic Prayer, we read that, there upon the Cross, Christ made, by his one oblation of himself once offered, a full, perfect, and sufficient sacrifice, oblation, and satisfaction, for the sins of the whole world– a full, perfect, and sufficient sacrifice; nothing more is required in redemption of the sins of the whole world.  There is nothing we can equate or add except our praise and thanksgiving.

Sacrifice is another one of those words in the English language that we trivialize with frequent inconsequential usage.  We have “sacrifice flies” in baseball; we parents sacrifice for our children’s education, and later our children sacrifice for our old age needs.  But, throughout the duration of Lent, particularly Holy Week, and on Resurrection Day we are confronted with the reality of the one and only full, perfect, and sufficient sacrifice – a sacrifice that was a labor of love.

Some years ago, my aunt became very ill with an unexplained virus.  She languished unconscious in the hospital for many days – weeks.  There was little anyone, including the medical professionals, could do except pray that she would have the physical stamina to prevail over the virus until it ran its course.  My uncle sat by her bedside, powerless.  Day after day, he held vigil next to his unconscious beloved.  In his desperation to bring her comfort, he searched out her hairbrush and began brushing her hair, tenderly, gently, hour after hour, offering the only gift he knew to offer.

Very slowly, Aunt Dorothy began to get well.

She had no recollection of the many days of unconsciousness, except the awareness of Uncle Don by her side brushing her hair. This, she described as the safety net that kept her grounded in this world – the one element keeping her soul from slipping away from her earthly body.  Surely, Uncle Don had suffered great discomfort over the long hours; we could say he sacrificed his own physical needs to remain present with the woman he loved most on earth.  Yet, this was a labor of love, selflessly, willingly given, with no thought of his own comfort.

My soul has been abundantly gratified this past week as we have gathered to experience the events of the last week of Jesus’ earthly life.  We have participated in his last evening with his disciples, bathing their feet, sharing their last meal together [which we are specifically instructed to continue], hearing the words of the New Commandment that we love one another in a radically different way than had been our previous understanding.  We stripped the altar bare and reflected on the emptiness of Jesus’ earthly departure.

On Friday, we read again of Jesus’ journey to the cross – standing alone before Pilate, unjustly accused; bearing the burden of the cross, being whipped and spat upon and humiliated, stripped naked, and finally lifted up on the cross in excruciating pain until death.  Last night we kindled the new Paschal fire; we entered worship in the dark and little by little experienced the coming of the light – the light of Christ – the one and only full, perfect, and sufficient sacrifice for the sins of the whole world.  We sang Alleluia, Christ is Risen Indeed!

For all who came, all who participated – the choir under Rebecca’s direction presenting some of the most beautiful music I have ever heard; the altar guild working tirelessly in their sacred ministry to perform their many necessary tasks of numerous altar hanging changes, polishing the brass, preparing the altar and arranging the lilies; the lay readers and altar servers; and others working behind the scenes.

We have walked the arduous way of the cross over the past days and today we shout Alleluia with the greatest fervor.   Our participation has been, not from a superficial sense of duty, but as a labor of love and desire.  Our only sacrifice that we bring is our sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving – freely, willingly, lovingly given, our hearts filled with thanksgiving.

The one full, perfect, and sufficient sacrifice of our Lord was a labor of love – knowingly, willingly, freely given.  Jesus took the cross – the burden of our sins upon himself; Jesus suffered and died that we might die to sin, and Jesus rose from the grave that we might be redeemed from death and evil.  Jesus’ suffering and death upon the cross was a labor of love.   His resurrection assures us of that reality.

He asks only that we love and serve one another as he, throughout his earthly life, showed us how to love and serve.

Alleluia.  Christ our Passover has been sacrificed for us;

Therefore, let us keep the feast.  Alleluia.