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."
