easter sunday

Palm Sunday 2026

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Something I read today has stuck with me all day. Today we celebrate Palm Sunday, when the crowds were yelling and singing as Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey in clear fulfillment of an Old Testament Messianic prophecy. Yet those were the same ones who were weeping over His death just a few days later.

I wonder what they were expecting. Were they hoping that Jesus would somehow lead an overthrow of Rome and restore independence to Israel? Were they hoping He would set Himself up as a King over Israel?

He didn’t have an army that they could see. He never once spoke about raising up an army. He never told them they needed to rebel against Roman rule. In fact, He’s the one who told them to pay their raxes because the coins which bore Ceasar’s likeness belonged to Caesar.

I wonder how many understood that the kingdom Jesus kept talking about was not one of this world. It wasn’t defined by boundaries or geography. It was God’s active rule in the hearts of all who would believe in His name and have eternal life and be indwelled by His Holy Spirit. It was the Church that would explode in numbers after He ascended back into heaven.

But most of them didn’t get it. Jesus even said they wouldn’t. Their hardness of heart and spiritual blindness kept them from seeing what was right in front of them. Only a few understood, and even they didn’t fully realize what was happening until after Jesus rose from the dead. Even the twelve were most likely expecting what the crowds were expecting.

No one could have foreseen a suffering Messiah. No one predicted that instead of leading a rebellion against Rome, He would lay down His life for them and His own people and the whole world. No one was prepared for Him to die, especially not on a cross reserved for the worst of criminals in a manner that was the worst kind of torture the human mind could conceive.

But to those who believed, He gave the right to become sons and daughters of the living God.

On the Night Before Palm Sunday

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It’s hard to believe that tomorrow is Palm Sunday, which means a week from tomorrow is Easter Sunday. That will be when people who would normally not go to church will show up feeling uncomfortable and not knowing when to sit, stand, or kneel. Many of them will know very little about why we’re celebrating Easter again this year because mostly what they know is rabbits and candy and hunting for plastic eggs.

Although Christmas is my favorite, Easter is not far behind. It represents why Christmas has meaning. If Jesus died on the cross and remained buried in that tomb, then His birth has no meaning and His life has no value. Anything He said or did would in turn be worthless.

But because there is an empty tomb and a risen Lord, we celebrate. We come together to remember that Jesus laid down His life for us to make our salvation possible. He then rose again to make that salvation secure. We can trust that nothing can separate us from the love of a Savior whom the grave could not hold and death could not defeat.

I do love everything about Easter. I love how people still get dressed up in their best Sunday outfits. I love that little kids still get excited about Easter baskets filled with candy and other goodness as well as hunting for those plastic eggs filled with more candy and sometimes money. I love seeing the world explode in pastel colors as the earth comes back to life after having lain dormant for so long during the winter months.

Palm Sunday represents the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem when the people lauded Him with hosannas. Most of them were thinking He was about to instigate an overthrow of Roman rule and a return of kingship to Israel. They wanted a king just like all the other nations, just like another Saul who looked good and said all the right things.

But a few knew that Jesus’ kingdom was not of this world. They knew that His kingdom wasn’t just for Jews. His kingdom was for anyone who would put their faith in this Messiah. This road that led to a kingdom wasn’t covered with palm branches and hosannas laid down by the multitudes but instead lead to a hill with Him carrying a cross while multitudes jeered at Him and called for His execution. This road would lead to suffering and death, but we know that soon that crown of thorns He bore on the cross would soon be exchanged for a throne that He would never relinquish.

Easter Sunday is a reminder that the worst part isn’t the end. As one writer puts it, your story never ends with ashes. The resurrection means that no one is ever too far gone or too lost to save. It’s never too late to be who God made you to be or to live out His purposes for you.

May our hosannas ring out just as loudly as they did 2000 years ago, but may we also look to the cross and the tomb where Jesus lay for three days and remember that it was for us that He lived and died. But may we never lose sight of that Sunday when He rose again. May our song from now on always be an Easter song because we are an Easter people with a risen Lord!

The Third Sunday of Lent

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“Almighty God, 
you know that we have no power in ourselves to help ourselves: 

Keep us both outwardly in our bodies and inwardly in our souls, 

that we may be defended from all adversities which may happen to the body, and from all evil thoughts which may assault and hurt the soul; 

through Jesus Christ our Lord, 
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, 
one God, 
for ever and ever. 

Amen.“

If you’re keeping score, you know there are four more weeks until Easter Sunday. That means 28 more days of Lent. How are you doing with your Lent fasting so far?

I realize not everybody gave up something for Lent. I gave up social media, so I have no idea what’s going on in the outside world. At least I’m missing everybody’s politicized takes on what’s going on in the world, which is probably not a bad thing some days.

But hopefully Lent is a time when we give up something to make room for something better. Hopefully, we replace the time spent watching television or on social media (or eating chocolate) with time to spend with God in worship, adoration, and prayer. Often, we end up substituting in another mindless addiction to take the place of whatever we gave up. Guilty as charged.

But I hope to take whatever time is remaining before Easter Sunday to devote to prayer. At least I hope to spend it reading actual books (including more of the Bible) and going outdoors more. It’s almost like if your life is closed room, it’s good to open up the windows and let in the fresh air.

The older I get, the more I understand that we need God’s help to please God and to do what God wants us to do. Any self-driven efforts will fail and fall far short of what God wants. But if we’re living in the resurrection power of the indwelling Spirit, we can do what pleases God.

Lord, help us to desire You more. Help us to seek You above any amusement or mindless entertainment that helps to pass the time. Help us to know how precious our lives are and to redeem the brief amount of time we’re given in comparison to eternity for Your glory and our greatest good.

Thank You for Your grace that seeks after us even when we’re not all that interested in seeking after You. You are relentless in chasing us down not to punish us or to chastise us but to show us a better way to think and to live. Help us to want for ourselves what You want for us. Amen.

Ash Wednesday 2026

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“I could never myself believe in God, if it were not for the cross. The only God I believe in is the one Nietzsche ridiculed as ‘God on the Cross.’ In the real world of pain, how could one worship a God who was immune to it? I have entered many Buddhist temples and stood respectfully before the statue of Buddha, his legs crossed, arms folded, eyes closed, the ghost of a smile playing round his mouth, a remote look on his face, detached from the agonies of the world. But each time after a while I have had to turn away. And in imagination I have turned instead to that lonely, twisted, tortured figure on the cross, nails through hands and feet, back lacerated, limbs wrenched, brow bleeding from thorn-pricks, mouth dry and intolerably thirsty, plunged in Godforsaken darkness. That is the God for me! He laid aside his immunity to pain. He entered our world of flesh and blood, tears and death. He suffered for us” (John Stott).

Lent has officially started. I’m a newcomer to this season of fasting and repentance that leads up to Easter Sunday, but I’m already a fan. I’ve gone through several years where I give up social media for Lent and found myself not missing it as much as I thought I would.

But Lent isn’t primarily about giving up or abstaining. It’s really about preparing your heart and mind for Easter Week, from Maundy Thursday to Good Friday and leading up to glorious Easter Sunday. It helps remind me that Easter really is more than baskets of candy and bunnies (although I’m not against those myself).

Easter is about God in the flesh taking the form of a servant and becoming obedient to the point of death, as the Apostle Paul puts it in Philippians 2. Instead of me and you dying deservedly for our own sins, Jesus took up the cross and bore our sins on His own body. Instead we get His righteousness and when God sees us, He doesn’t see our flaws but Christ’s perfection.

The best part of course is Resurrection Sunday when Jesus rose from the grave and forever defeated satan, hell, death, and the grave. There is now nothing to fear for anyone who has been made a new creation by Christ. We know that no matter what happens, the worst part will never be the last part because of the resurrection. As Tim Keller put it, the resurrection means that everything is going to be okay.

Cancer won’t have the last word. Dementia won’t have the last word. Terrorism won’t have the last word. Not even death will have the last word. One day, Jesus will descend and every grave will open up and we will all rise to be with Him in the air. That will be the best day ever for anyone who has trusted in Jesus for salvation.

My prayer for anyone who is observing Lent this year is that we will be more inclined and attuned to the voice of God than ever before. I’m praying that we will experience more deeply than ever before the glorious reality of the empty tomb and the risen Christ.

It may seem like a perpetual night of hopelessness these days with so much doom and gloom over every headline and social media feed, but Easter Sunday’s comin’!

Known by the Scars

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I have a few scars. One is on my left hand, a reminder from when I was in a wreck back in the day. I pulled out in front of a full-sized truck, thinking it was a four-way stop. It was not.

Thankfully, I ended up being okay aside from a deep cut on my hand from the dashboard and being generally stiff and sore the next day from the impact. My scar is a reminder of how God saved me from my own foolishness that day.

I remember that Jesus also has scars. His resurrected and glorified body still had the nail piercings on His hands and feet, as well as the wound in His side. Those were the proofs that it was really and truly Jesus raised from the dead.

But also it’s a way of giving value to all those who have scars of their own. Some are more obvious than others. Some are hidden, but some are in places where we can’t hide them. Some of us are ashamed or embarrassed by our scars.

But scars tell a story where you survived. Scars are the reminder of something that could have killed you but didn’t. Scars are proof of a divine intervention. In a way, when you can wear your scars proudly, you identify with Jesus and His own scars.

Most of all, your scars should remind you that Jesus bore the wounds that gave Him the scars for you and for me. He was wounded for our transgressions, as it says in Isaiah 53. By His stripes, we are healed. He bore what we should have born because of our sins, and we get the rewards of a perfect life that should only belong to Jesus. That’s the great exchange. That’s the gospel.

Scars can be something to hide, like those humiliating moments or shameful parts of the past, or they can be part of your testimony. A pastor once said that true healing is evident when that part of your story that you swore you’d never tell anybody becomes the first line of your testimony.

“Do you know what St. Peter says to everyone who tries to get into heaven?” 
…
“Peter says, ‘Don’t you have any scars?’ And when most would respond proudly, ‘Well, no, no I don’t,’ Peter says, ‘Why not? Was there nothing worth fighting for?” (Matthew Perry, Friends, Lovers, and the Big Terrible Thing).

11 Years Later

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I figured out a little while ago that it was 11 years ago today that The Church at Avenue South had their first ever Easter service at 2510 Franklin Road, months before the official September launch of the campus. I distinctly remember we had rows of white plastic folding chairs set in front of a screen. There were maybe 100 of us with a handful of kids.

This Sunday, we had an overflow set up in the basement with just as many chairs. Upstairs in the sanctuary, we had three services to accommodate over 900 worshippers with plenty of kids in attendance. Not to mention we celebrated our first ever Easter Sunday in our new facility that probably seemed like a pipe-dream 11 years ago.

It’s so easy to get caught up in the tyranny of the urgent and forget that sometimes we are living in the answered prayers of the past. So many of those things we pleaded with God to have are now the same things we routinely take for granted in our quest to get more from God.

That’s why gratitude is vital to the life of a believer and to a community of faith. It stops entitlement dead in its tracks and keeps us reminded of God’s continual faithfulness because we like those Israelites of old are forgetful and prone to wander.

I love that we have so many new members who never set foot in the 2510 Franklin Road location. Probably a small handful are left who remember that first Easter service in 2014. But God was there. And He still shows up every Sunday at 901 Acklen Avenue.

I can’t wait to see what the next 11 years holds in store. Or even the next 11 months. Whatever it is, I’m sure it will be exceedingly abundantly beyond anything we could ever ask or dream or imagine or hope for. That’s just God’s way.

The Last Week

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Today is Palm Sunday and marks the beginning of the last week of Jesus’ earthly ministry, the week leading up to Good Friday and Easter Sunday. I’ve been here before, but I feel like so many times I’ve rushed to get through it to what’s next.

This time, I want to slow down a bit and sit under the cross. I want to be still long enough to hear God speak a word over me about what this week means for me and for all those who call on the Messiah out of a genuine faith. I want to be moved to tears and fully take in the price that Jesus paid for me.

I finished an incredible devotional by one of my favorite writers, Charles Martin. It’s called It Is Finished and spends 40 days walking the path that led from Palm Sunday to Easter Sunday, sparing no details and leaving no stone unturned. It was one of the best books I’ve read in a long time, and I hope to read it again some day.

I want Easter to mean more than the Easter Bunny or Cadbury chocolate eggs (though I am very much a fan of both). I don’t want to look at the date on the calendar and miss the point of the day — Jesus who knew no sin became sin for me that I might become the righteousness of God in Christ.

I don’t want to be the same person in seven days as the person who is now writing these words. I want to be more like Jesus, more aware of the sacrifice He made, and more willing to count the cost and take up my own cross. I want to be more of a disciple and less of an admirer. I want to be more of a follower and less of a fan. I want to be a truly biblical Christian and not a watered-down, American Christian.

I’m thankful that God is far more patient with me than I am with Him and takes far more time with me than I ever have with Him. At this point, I say, “Lord, do whatever it takes to make me Yours, Your disciple, Your own. Have Your way in me. Amen.”

Face Like Flint

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“The heart of salvation is the Cross of Christ. The reason salvation is so easy to obtain is that it cost God so much. The Cross is the place where God and sinful man merged with a tremendous collision and where the way to life was opened. But all the cost and pain of the collision was absorbed by the heart of God” (Oswald Chambers).

I was blessed to be able to watch episodes 1 and 2 of The Chosen Season 5 in theaters. So far, it’s set during the Lord’s Supper with flashbacks to events earlier in the last week of Jesus’ ministry and life. I was able to more fully appreciate the totality of the weight that was on Jesus during these last days. In fact, you might even say that the weight of the world was on His shoulders.

He saw lost and hurting people. He saw misguided and corrupt religious leaders not only not helping people find salvation, but at times actively hindering people from doing so. He saw a temple that had become a market where money mattered over worship and where the house of prayer had become a den of thieves.

Jonathan Roumie portrayed all the inner turmoil that Jesus went through. Sometimes in movies about the Christ, I feel like the divine part gets played up at the expense of the humanity, and Jesus can come across as divinely disinterested and maybe a little bored. But this series has brought Jesus down to earth by emphasizing His humanness but not at the expense of his divine nature.

I remembered as I witness the emotions of Jesus during these first two episodes that Jesus was not called the Man of Sorrows for no reason. It wasn’t a catchy title. Jesus’ heart really did break over the lostness of the world He encountered — first, metaphorically during three years of ministry then literally on the cross when the spear pierced His side.

I can’t wait for the next episodes. And also, I’m dreading these next few scenes a bit. I know where this is heading. It’s not the rom-com portion of the program. In the next few days, we have betrayal, arrest, false trial, execution and death. All leading up to Good Friday. All leading up to Easter Sunday. But the good news is that as the old sermon said, it may be Friday, but Sunday’s comin’.

More than ever, I really can’t wait for that Sunday to get here.

My Lent Readings

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So I may have gone a tad overboard with my readings for Lent. I suppose technically, some of them are specifically for Lent and some are devotionals for the entire year. Here’s what I’m reading. Hopefully it will inspire you to add these books (or others like them) to your to-read list at some point:

  1. God’s Message for Each Day – Eugene Peterson. This one is a daily devotional book from the author of the Message, more of a paraphrase than a translation of the Bible but still worth using. This little devotional has short readings for each day and has been very helpful.
  2. 365 Pocket Prayers – Ronald A. Beets. I don’t know if Ronald wrote these or compiled them, but there are 365 prayers, each with a different theme. There’s also a handy index listing the prayers by category in case you want to find a prayer for guilt or shame or anxiety or such.
  3. A Barclay Prayer Book – William Barclay. This is a prayer book that follows the Christian Year and Holy Days in the Book of Common Prayer and also has prayers for all seasons. There were a couple of phrasings in there that gave me a bit of pause, but overall, I’ve liked it enough to recommend it.
  4. It Is Finished: A 40-Day Pilgrimmage Back to the Cross – Charles Martin. This one is blowing my mind with new insights about Jesus’ journey to the cross. It’s very reverent and biblical in its retelling of the scenes of Jesus’ last week before the crucifixion. Another book I highly recommend.
  5. The Book of Common Prayer (1928 edition) – This book helps get me in the proper frame of mind for both Christmas and Easter with all the Advent and Lent readings leading up to Christmas Day and Easter Sunday. Plus, there are so many beautiful collects and other readings for all the Holy Days and other important days in the Christian calendar. It makes me want to be liturgical.

All that plus reading through the Bible in a year is a lot. So proceed with caution if you dare. Or you can recommend your own Advent and/or Lent readings that have encouraged and inspired you and maybe I’ll read them next year.

It’s Friday But Sunday’s Comin’!

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I can’t remember a lot of what I’ve done in the last week or so, but I can still remember a sermon from Tony Campolo that I heard when I was a student at Union University way back in the early 90s. It was close to Easter that year, and I seem to remember we were getting ready to go on our spring break.

I remember the sermon was based on the text by an old black preacher named S. M. Lockridge with the refrain of “It’s Friday . . . but Sunday’s comin’!”

The gist is that Friday was when everything looked hopeless. Jesus was dead and buried. The Pharisees and other religious leaders were celebrating. The disciples were crushed and defeated. But Sunday and the empty tomb were just ahead, unbeknownst to those who were witnesses to the events on Friday.

Here’s the text from the original sermon that set my world on fire:

“It’s Friday. Jesus is arrested in the garden where He was praying. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. The disciples are hiding and Peter’s denying that he knows the Lord. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Jesus is standing before the high priest of Israel, silent as a lamb before the slaughter. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Jesus is beaten, mocked, and spit upon. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Those Roman soldiers are flogging our Lord with a leather scourge that has bits of bones and glass and metal, tearing at his flesh. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. The Son of man stands firm as they press the crown of thorns down into his brow. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. See Him walking to Calvary, the blood dripping from His body. See the cross crashing down on His back as He stumbles beneath the load. It’s Friday; but Sunday’s a coming.

It’s Friday. See those Roman soldiers driving the nails into the feet and hands of my Lord. Hear my Jesus cry, “Father, forgive them.” It’s Friday; but Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Jesus is hanging on the cross, bloody and dying. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. The sky grows dark, the earth begins to tremble, and He who knew no sin became sin for us. Holy God, who will not abide with sin, pours out His wrath on that perfect sacrificial lamb who cries out, “My God, My God. Why hast thou forsaken me?” What a horrible cry. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. And at the moment of Jesus’ death, the veil of the Temple that separates sinful man from Holy God was torn from the top to the bottom because Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Jesus is hanging on the cross, heaven is weeping and hell is partying. But that’s because it’s Friday, and they don’t know it, but Sunday’s a coming.

And on that horrible day 2,000 years ago, Jesus the Christ, the Lord of glory, the only begotten Son of God, the only perfect man, died on the cross of Calvary. Satan thought that he had won the victory. Surely he had destroyed the Son of God. Finally he had disproved the prophecy God had uttered in the Garden and the one who was to crush his head had been destroyed. But that was Friday.

Now it’s Sunday. And just about dawn on that first day of the week, there was a great earthquake. But that wasn’t the only thing that was shaking, because now it’s Sunday.

And the angel of the Lord is coming down out of heaven and rolling the stone away from the door of the tomb.

Yes, it’s Sunday, and the angel of the Lord is sitting on that stone. And the guards posted at the tomb to keep the body from disappearing were shaking in their boots, because it’s Sunday. And the lamb that was silent before the slaughter is now the resurrected lion from the tribe of Judah, for He is not here, the angel says. He is risen indeed.

It’s Sunday, and the crucified and resurrected Christ has defeated death, hell, sin, and the grave. It’s Sunday. And now everything has changed. It’s the age of grace, God’s grace poured out on all who would look to that crucified lamb of Calvary. Grace freely given to all who would believe that Jesus Christ died on the cross of Calvary was buried and rose again. All because it’s Sunday.

It’s Friiidaaaay!

But Sunday’s coming!” (S. M. Lockridge, With Thanks to Dr. Michael G. Davis for the text version).