Choral Evensong on Easter Day

Holy Week 2026 sermon series

Holy Week and our day to day life now:

The events of salvation,
the font of Grace,
the sacramental life of the Church today.

This week, since Palm Sunday we have been on pilgrimage through the events of Holy Week. And the sermons each day have been held together by a theme. We have been looking at Holy Week in the light of the sacraments of the Christian life, and vice versa. What does Palm Sunday, Jesus’ arrest, trial, crucifixion have to say about Baptism, Anointing, Marriage, Confession, and vice versa? What does the Resurrection say about Holy Communion and Confirmation and vice versa?

Hopefully it has been theological and practical - linking the theology of Holy Week with what we actually do in the course of our lives as Christians. All the sermons are on the website, should you wish to look the up.

And it’s all been about stepping stones. Stepping stones through the events of Holy Week, this week of weeks. And the stepping stones of life - Christian rites of passage - through life from birth to death, and beyond.

And before we think, ‘yeah, that’s obvious’, and move on to a glass of Easter Day fizz. There is actually something radical and important to notice.

Because of who Christians think God is, there is something very important going on.

God loves matter, through matter. Plenty of world faiths believe in god or gods. But Christians uniquely believe that matter, the substance of the universe, the star dust that we and everything else is made of, is holy, consecrated, sacred, blessed and used by God.

In the person of Jesus Christ, our substance, our matter, is blessed by the Incarnation. Through the person of Jesus Christ (in His death and resurrection), our substance is changed forever, because it has gone through death, and out into life again. It is as if death’s sting is snapped off, hell’s teeth are pulled out, leaving only impotent, soft gums.

God loved and redeemed the matter of the universe, us and everything with us, by becoming matter Himself. And by walking that matter through death and hell, and out into life today.

And He still is. God is still like this, still doing stuff this way. That’s why Christians make such a fuss about the sacraments. In bread and wine, God continues to use matter to bless, love and save us funny little lot down here. Through water and oil, through human love, through the hands of bishops; that is through Eucharist, Baptism, Confirmation, Ordination and all the rest: God continues to share life with us in a way that is life changing.

And those are the standard seven sacraments of the church, that we have come to receive and embrace. There’s more. In sacred music, in friendships (and relationships of so many kinds), in the delights of creation, in the blessings of wine and food, in all the beautiful fecundity of life, we wallow in the gift of God’s provision. God using stuff to love us, (who are made of stuff). Bach is the obvious example. His extraordinary devotion, and sense of vocation to worshipping God through his music. How can I not say, with Johann Sebastian, that his music is a work of God’s Holy Spirit among us? Dots on a page, vibrating air and strings, and snot covered flappy bits of flesh in our throats: stuff that is a work of God among us.

There’s a lovely story (I hope it’s true) about some Space Agency that listens for signs of extra-terrestrial life in the universe. It also sends out packets of data should anyone be listening for us. But then of course, we ask, ‘what is Planet Earth’s calling card?’. What sums up the human race enough for us to send out to represent Earth, should someone out there be listening? They sent various things, and wanted to send some music. At the meeting someone said, ‘I suppose, we could send some Bach?’, and immediately without hesitation, someone else round the table replied ‘oh, no, that would just be showing off’.

God loves matter through matter. It is all around us.

Every now and then there are headlines in the science pages of the daily newspapers about studies observing what happens in our brains when we pray. Some people read such things and suggest that that means prayer is simply a neurological event, and therefore not a spiritual one, not ‘really prayer’ at all. This is a bizarre mistake. The life of God and the life of the universe are not divorced, they are utterly entwined in this wonderful eternal dance of love.

When Jesus died, He really died. A person died. When He walked out of the tomb, He really walked out of the tomb. His legs moved, his muscles contracted and relaxed. Was this a biological event, too right it was. When I pray and the synapses in my brain exhibit this or that activity, I am really praying, me, yes. The natural and supernatural are not divorced realties, they are just us and God sharing life together. It is us that make bizarre category distinctions.

When we receive the simple gifts of bread and wine that hide the life of Jesus Himself in Holy Communion, yes, it is our saliva and stomach acid that receive them, and we are one with Jesus in a life-changing way; both, and.

When we make and hear this music at Evensong on Easter Day, it is a share, with composer and musician, and stone mason, and hearer, and those who aren’t here for whom we pray, it is a share in a wonderful dance of divine love and grace.

I guess what I’m getting at is this: life is a banquet, a divine feast. Real, gritty, tragic, sad, boring. Yes, yes, yes, and a divine invitation to life in friendship with God. Sacraments are the fabric of that friendship, the stuff by which God loves us (who are made of stuff). Today, Jesus walks out of the tomb and calls each and everyone of us by name, to His party called life, now and forever.