The Glories of Easter Morn

“Made of the seed of David according to the flesh, and declared to be the Son of God with power, by the resurrection from the dead.” — Romans i. 3, 4.

Easter Day was a new Christmas Day; it was the second birth of Christ. His second birth was grander than His first. His first birth was under disadvantages. The disadvantage lay not in the manger, but in the royal lineage. The swaddling bands that circumscribed Him were not the facts of His poverty, but the glories of His ancestors; the royal line of David separated Him from the main line of humanity. But when He came from the dead He changed his lineage. He broke with the line of David — with all lines but the lowliest. His second life was not from Bethlehem: it was from the common dust of all cities — from the city of the dead.

We think of Him as nearer to us when a child. That is a great mistake. As a child He was always the Jewish Messiah — nearer to the tribes of Israel than to the tribes of Man. But with Easter morn He came up from the depths — from the dust of death. He came from the place where all join hands; and that is the secret of His resurrection power. We all meet in the lowest valley. We do not all meet on the highest mountain, on any mountain. We are not made one by joy; the privilege of the Jew divides him from the Gentile. But calamity makes us one; sin and death make us one. Christmas morning was beautiful, but it came from the fields of gold; Easter morning is more precious, for it comes from the miry clay.

Therefore, O Morn, I greet thee! Thou hast a message of hope for my lowliest hour, a promise of rising for my most prostrate moment. I could not greet Elijah’s chariot; I could not greet Enoch’s disappearance. These were not the conquest of my lowliness; they were the flight from it. They did not master the forces of decay; they escaped them; they passed death by. But thou, mine

Easter Day, hast risen from the great sea. Thou hast come from out the wave that has engulfed all the world. Thou hast raised thy head from the night and from the cold. Thou hast shone out from the unshining place — the place of my despair. Thou hast rung the bells of joy over the scene of my desolation. Thou hast made the wilderness glad; thou hast caused the desert to blossom. The fir-tree has sprung where the thorn was expected; the myrtle has come forth where the briar ought to have been. Thou hast made the unlikely spot to praise thee; the hope which thou bringest is hope from the dead.