Easter is something that happened in history, but it is far more than that. It is something affecting the history of man forever. The destiny of mankind is bound up in that long-ago event called the Resurrection. It is now, as it was then, a matter of life and death both for the individual and for the human race.

We are a dying world. The masses, clutching at life, thrust onward to the ravenous grave. Men whose names are like a fire in the earth, along with the nameless nobodies, march endlessly toward the mighty silence. All kingdoms and all kings have a destiny with the dust.

Where, then, on this death-ship in space, does one turn for hope? Where, except to that open tomb that lies not very far from the hill where stood a naked cross? That tomb is like a silent shout of hope from God. And if that shout does not matter, then all men must die forever, and Christians, of all men, are most miserable!

Turn to Nature and ask here: If a man die, shall he live again? Nature has no answer, even if the poets have sometimes beguiled us into thinking otherwise. Nature knows nothing of a resurrection! Spring, to be sure, is a lovely wonder. The seed-tombs burst and life leaps forth. But this can be a delusion! Have you never reveled in a swirl of blossoms and felt deep in your mind the warning that the blossoms would go like snow under the sun? The red rose blowing in the wind is something of a prophecy about withered petals to come. The fluffy kitten, lightning-fast on the floor, is not far removed from a bedraggled cat creeping to its end. On bright young faces too soon we see the tracings of time that foreshadow faces sagging and aged.

Nature has no resurrection. Clearly Jesus saw this! The grass, he said, that blows green in the field ...

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