Today is Easter, the Christian celebration of the Resurrection.
For over a century, our nation honored the open tomb and the words “He is Risen”:
By the late 19th century, nearly every Christian household in America was celebrating Easter and Christmas, which was regarded as a joyful holiday promoting family togetherness.
Do we still? Our entertainment degrades our founding faith. Our churches are dying. For the first time in American history, atheism is the religion of the day (here).
Is society better for it? In any way?
Anti-depressants course through one in six of us (here). The family unit has disintegrated.
Today was once a time for families: Mothers, fathers, and children put on their Sunday best to meet friends and loved ones at their local house of worship.
But not anymore.
And the nation hasn’t just bid goodbye to Easter, but Christmas, too: Schools no longer recognize that time-splitting birth (here).
So for a once-Christian nation, what is left in which for us to believe? The government? Socialism? Secularism? One’s own truth?
Those won’t satisfy the soul.
We move forward, without direction. Not only due to the culture, but our national leadership. And apart from not just Christianity, but faith in a Creator at all — a divine recognition of something higher than ourselves.
Behold our decline:
Spiritually, as a nation, we are dead.
But for those who still believe — for those who know a stone can be rolled away — we may yet live again.
Our country writhes in the valley of a black Friday, from the crucifixion of values we once held dear. We’ve given up the ghost. We’ve been engulfed by the eclipse.
And all hope seems lost, the end sure.
But for those who believe, Sunday awaits. A day of new life. A day of revival (here).
Many still mourn, many still weep
For those that they love who have fallen asleep
But we have this hope — though our hearts may still ache
Just one shout from above and they all will awake
And in the reunion of joy we will see
Death will be swallowed in sweet victory
Could that be the story of our nation? The story of a spiritual rebirth? A restoration? A return to life?
For those who believe in Easter, surely it could be.
Surely it might.
To the faithful, the grave can’t prevent our salvation — an embrace of virtue; a return to maters of the soul; a passion for freedom, as a nation under God.
It’s Friday night. But Sunday’s on the way. If we want it to be. If we hold to the miracle of the Third Day.
And for those who do — and for those who don’t — I say to you: Happy Easter; may we rise again.
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