Alleluia! - The Rev. Brian Petersen

Easter 2026

Alleluia! Christ is Risen! Let’s say that a few more times for good measure…

It feels good to say “Alleluia”, doesn’t it? Maybe I like saying it so much because it feels just a bit defiant, a little transgressive. If you’ve been following your Lenten practices (like I know you have!), you know that “the A word” has been strictly forbidden for the last 40 days, so it might feel a little bit naughty to finally be able to say it!

But I have to wonder – might it also feel a bit transgressive to say “Alleluia” when we consider the present state of the world we live in? One doesn’t have to look far to see that we are living in heavy times – the weight of tragedy and crisis is all around us, and joy might not seem like the appropriate response to the gravity of our current time.

And if you spend any amount of time watching the news or getting on social media (which might have been a good thing to give up for Lent), you might think that cynicism is much more warranted than something as frivolous as joy.

I’ll acknowledge this very real feeling, but I’ll add that this is precisely what makes Easter a very subversive holiday. It’s not just about bunnies and chocolate (as great as those are) - it’s about defiant joy in the face of darkness. And connected to joy is hope, because the joy of Easter is about hope fulfilled.

But hope, like joy, can be misconstrued– because if hope is nothing more than optimism, it can be an exercise in futility, foolishness, even a way to avoid dealing with reality. We might be tempted, especially in our current time, to want to be as practical and realistic as possible about what we are facing.

This is the approach that we see in our Gospel story today from Peter. We can’t know exactly what Peter was thinking when he arrived at the tomb, found it empty with the linen wrappings lying there – but whatever it was, it wasn’t enough to inspire him to hope, much less joy. More likely, he leaned into his disappointment, his cynicism – surely someone must have stolen the body away, yet another tragic twist to an already tragic story. He’s in too much pain to hope, which makes him unable to see what God has made possible.

Mary, on the other hand, gives us the picture of what true hope looks like. It’s not naive optimism – she isn’t at the tomb trying to “smile the pain away.” She’s grieving too – but she refuses to give up and go back home. Mary’s hope looks like holding onto the slightest glimmer, trusting the words she heard from Jesus before he died - and in that hope against hope, she is able to see Jesus.

Of course, this doesn’t come right away. She doesn’t recognize Jesus as first – hope is not an easy task – it’s a process of wrestling with doubt, with despair.

One of my favorite musicians, Nick Cave, is someone who has experienced a great deal of tragedy in his life, and much of his music and writing reflects his journey and struggle with hope. He writes that “unlike cynicism, hopefulness is hard-earned, makes demands upon us, and can often feel like the most indefensible and lonely place on Earth. Hopefulness is not a neutral position either. It is adversarial. It is the warrior emotion that can lay waste to cynicism – it says the world is worth believing in.”

Mary stands at the tomb in that lonely place, deserted by her friends and fellow disciples, refusing to believe that death and darkness, and those powers in the world, will have the last word. And here’s the miracle of Easter – in that moment of hopeful defiance, Christ meets us there. And even if we can’t see it right away – he is patient with us, waits for us, calls us by name. The Risen Christ shows us that our hope, our wrestling, our struggle – none of it is in vain.

That’s a message that goes far beyond optimism, far beyond “pie-in-the-sky”, far beyond “the opiate of the masses” – because it’s a declaration of victory. It’s a direct and defiant message to those powers of darkness, those forces that seek to divide and conquer, and drive us to despair and cynicism by telling us that no other way is possible - that their day is done. Love wins. Another way is not only possible, it is the only possibility, because through Christ the power of life and light has trampled down death.

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

And so Jesus tells Mary - don’t hold onto me - I’m returning to the Father. Go and tell someone about it! This life, this victory, isn’t just for some future heaven, it’s for now – and we, like Mary, are entrusted with that message - so go tell it to the world! Let the whole world see and hear and experience your joy. Be a sign of resurrection that is happening right now.

In just a moment, we’ll all get to see and participate in a sign of that joy as we baptize these children, and we’ll see how they will receive their light to carry out into the world. We all have that light, given to us through the power of Christ’s resurrection, so may we celebrate together as Resurrection people - because resurrection begins now.

I think that deserves another Alleluia, don’t you? Alleluia, Christ is Risen!