Discipling Life

Here in North Carolina, we are surrounded by the evidence of springtime. Amid the discomfort of the yellow haze of pollen, we see the blossoming of Dogwood trees, the blooms of the daffodils by the roadside, and hear the burst of songbird melodies. There’s something about this season that mirrors the confidence of Psalm 16 . The psalmist prays, “Protect me, O God, for in you I take refuge… The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup” (vss. 1, 5). This is a trust that believes life, not death, has the last word. The psalm begins with refuge and ends with resurrection hope. “You show me the path of life. In your presence there is fullness of joy; in your right hand are pleasures forevermore” (v. 11). These words take on deeper meaning in the light of Christ’s rising. What the psalmist glimpsed, Easter reveals. The path of life leads through death but does not end there. God’s faithfulness holds us beyond what we can see. In Psalm 16, the psalmist declares, “I keep the Lord always before...

Your boasting is not a good thing. Do you not know that a little yeast leavens all of the dough? Clean out the old yeast so that you may be a new batch of dough, as you really are unleavened. For our paschal lamb, Christ, has been sacrificed. Therefore, let us celebrate the festival, not with the old yeast, the yeast of malice and evil, but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth . — 1 Corinthians 5:6-8 Every spring, I’m struck by how quickly things change. One day the trees look bare and tired, and the next day tiny green buds appear followed by an explosion of pollen! It’s almost as though creation itself can’t wait to burst into new life. Easter carries that same energy. It’s the season when the church leans forward, expecting transformation, trusting that resurrection is not just a story about Jesus long ago but a promise for us right now. Paul writes to the Corinthians, “Do you not know that a little yeast leavens the whole batch of dough?” (1 Corinthians 5:6). He’s u...

This Easter Sunday I decided to do something different. I wanted to focus on the epistle lesson for the day. The first four verses of the third chapter of Paul's letter to the Colossians. 1 Since you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. 2 Set your minds on the things that are above, not on the things that are on earth, 3 for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. 4 When Christ who is your life is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory. The Hidden Life Date: April 5, 2026 Speaker: Alan Swartz Scripture: Colossians 3:1-4 1. Introduction In the quiet of this Easter morning, we find ourselves standing at a   threshold. It is the intersection where the silence of an empty tomb meets the our profound expectation for a word that actually matters. We gather with a deep hunger, hoping that the story of the resurrection might do more than occupy our minds for an hour; w...

There are moments in life when everything feels unsettled. You might be sitting at your kitchen table, or standing in the hallway at church, or lying awake at night, and even though the room is quiet, your heart is anything but. Fear, uncertainty, and unanswered questions have a way of lingering. The disciples knew that feeling well. After the resurrection, they gathered behind closed doors, trying to make sense of rumors and reports, unsure what to believe or what the future would hold. It’s easy to understand the disciples’ fear that evening . They had seen their Lord crucified, buried, and now, some claimed, alive again. The room must have been thick with confusion and wonder when suddenly, “Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, ‘Peace be with you’” (Luke 24:36). Peace was the last thing they probably felt at that moment. Yet peace was the first thing Jesus offered. Sometimes life feels like that upper room. We lock the doors of our hearts, trying to make sense of dis...

Sometimes the longest journeys happen in the shortest distances. The road to Emmaus is one of those kinds of walks . Two disciples, hearts broken and dreams shattered, wander down a road trying to make sense of all they’ve seen. They are confused, hurting, and unsure of their future. Jesus begins to walk with them, but they can’t yet see the hope standing right beside them. They do not recognize him. Luke tells us that as they walked, “beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures” (Luke 24:27). Christ meets them right where they are and gently opens the scriptures so they can see the thread of grace woven through the whole story. This is a tremendous gift of grace at work: Christ coming alongside us long before we recognize him, guiding our steps and stirring our hearts. Later, when they sit down at the table, something shifts. “He took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, ...

Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb… Jesus said to her, 'Mary!' She turned and said to him in Hebrew, 'Rabbouni!' (which means Teacher). (John 20:1–18, NRSVue) Easter morning always begins in the dark. The sky is quiet, the world still wrapped in shadow. Mary Magdalene steps into that darkness carrying grief. The one who had changed her life is gone, and all she can do is come to the place where his body had been laid. It is love that brings her there. It is a love strong enough to face sorrow head-on. But what she finds is not what she expects. The stone is rolled away. The tomb is empty. Confusion and fear give way to astonishment as the risen Christ speaks her name, “Mary!” When she hears it everything changes. Light breaks into darkness, despair turns to hope, and death itself loses its power. This is the miracle at the heart of our faith: God r...