During my teenage years, I was at Disney World with a group of friends. Disney had opened a new ride called Space Mountain. All my friends wanted to ride it. We didn’t know it was a roller coaster. 

I’m one of those people who experiences motion sickness in the bathtub, so roller coasters are not something I seek out. Space Mountain has the added drama of being indoors…without light. It was pitch black. 

Unable to see the track, we couldn’t anticipate when the roller coaster would summit and begin to plunge…or when it would lurch left or right around curves. It was the longest 3 minutes of my life.

In a way, Space Mountain is a metaphor for life. We don’t know what lies ahead. We plan. We anticipate. But many times, we are thrown into moments of uncertainty…and we just hold on for dear life.  Those are the moments when faith is front and center. It is faith that calls us forward—to step into the unknown, trusting that God is guiding us even when we cannot see the path.

When Jesus called Peter into ministry, and Peter stepped out of his boat onto dry land, I wonder what he thought tomorrow would be? Surely, he could not have imagined feeding thousands of people with one child’s lunch, walking on water…recognizing Christ in Jesus of Nazareth…seeing Jesus transfigured…being sent out 2x2 into the world…to realize that he…Peter… was empowered to heal in the name of God…seeing with own eyes Lazarus walk out of a grave. 

You can feel the crescendo of faith, strength, and confidence building in Peter. 

And then the cross.

Space Mountain cannot begin to capture the free fall from Palm Sunday to Good Friday. 

In Luke’s Gospel, Peter disappears from the text until today.

Mary Magdalene and other women went to the tomb.   It was open…and it was empty.

JB Phillips’ translation reads, “While they were still puzzling over this, two men suddenly stood at their elbow, dressed in dazzling light.”  Luke said, “The women were frightened” … I’m sure they were--this wasn’t a Disney World event.  It was an unnatural spectacle in the natural world. 

The men spoke: Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here: he has been raised!

Then they remembered: Jesus told them he would be crucified and … and on the third day…he would rise.  Immediately, they turned their backs on the tomb.

They have not yet seen the risen Christ. But they know.

They went to the grave expecting to find Jesus’ body. Instead, they experience a supernatural event and, by faith, know that Jesus has been raised. They’ve gone from grief and fear to joy and hope….in a matter of minutes.   

The women ran to the disciples and told them everything. The disciples did not believe their testimony. “Only Peter got up and ran to the tomb”. He got out of the boat and stepped out in faith. He saw the empty tomb….he saw the linen cloth.   And he went home…amazed at what had happened.

He has not yet seen the risen Christ. But, he knows.

Christ is risen.

In just a few moments, we will welcome a new member into the life of St. Christopher’s. As Rozlyn commits herself to Christ, we also renew our own Baptismal covenant. We say these words together—as the Body of Christ. We commit ourselves to a life of learning, fellowship, communion; to repentance; to living the Gospel “out there”…in the world; to loving our neighbor as ourselves; to striving for justice; to respecting the dignity of every human being.

We make the commitments as a community for a reason: we don’t all fall at the same. When one of us stumbles, others are there to help us up.

Together, we navigate both the joys and challenges of life, supporting one another in faith.  Along the way, we become more than just a congregation. We become a family. 

The bonds we form are strong because, through baptism, we are united in the eternal life of Christ. We are siblings in Christ.

Our shared commitment is the foundation of St. Christopher’s legacy: to live out our Baptismal covenant, together, no matter the cost.  Even when we lose it all. Or we think we have lost it all. It is a reminder that we are never alone in our journey of faith; we are held together by the love and strength of this community. And we are guided by the Holy Spirit.

Together, this community of faith has strength for the journey. We have demonstrated that over and over again.

At the empty tomb, God met the women with boundless hope and grace. And God continues to meet us-- at every valley and mountaintop of our lives-- with boundless hope and grace. 

Just as the women at the tomb turned their backs to grief and fear to embrace joy and faith, we too are called to step forward, trusting in God’s guidance even when our path is unclear. 

When my Space Mountain ride ended, I had tears running down my face. I couldn’t wait to step out of the building into the light of day. And then I turned around and got in line to ride it again. 

Alleluia!

Christ is risen.

The Lord is risen indeed.

Alleluia!