Around A.D. 160, a bishop in Sardis preached the oldest surviving sermon on the resurrection feast. No eggs. No bunnies. No seasonal sentimentality. Just this:
"I am your freedom. I am the Passover of your salvation. I am the lamb slaughtered for you. I am your ransom. I am your life. I am your light. I am your resurrection. I am your king."
In the Temple courts, towering menorahs blaze against the winter night,
their flames proclaiming a memory—
light that once defied desecration.
There's a fascinating progression in Ephesians 2 that captures the essence of our relationship with God's Torah (Instruction) and "good works."
From the beginning, God created humanity to bear His Name and fill the earth with His glory. Rebellion profaned it—from Eden to Babel to Israel’s failure.
Through Yeshua, the perfect Image, that Name is restored and exalted above all. The Gospel announces: God’s original purpose is fulfilled—His dwelling with us forever (Rev 21:3).
Around A.D. 160, a bishop in Sardis preached the oldest surviving sermon on the resurrection feast. No eggs. No bunnies. No seasonal sentimentality. Just this:
"I am your freedom. I am the Passover of your salvation. I am the lamb slaughtered for you. I am your ransom. I am your life. I am your light. I am your resurrection. I am your king."
With the approach of Passover and Easter, I am again reminded of the tensions caused by how the world and the church has lost track of time and the misplaced traditions that have set aside God's plan for celebration and worship. This disconnect between modern calendars and God's ordained accounting of time represents more than a mere technical difference—it signifies a profound spiritual rupture.
The Council of Nicaea in 325 CE represents perhaps…
