There is an interesting story of Philip, an eight year old, born a Mongoloid. He was in a Sunday school class with nine other children. Never quite fitting in, he was accepted only peripherally. It was the Sunday after Easter that the Sunday school teacher decided to give the youngsters a very special assignment. He gave them little eggs. You have seen those little containers in which panty hose comes and it looks like an egg. He gave each youngster an egg and he said to the youngsters, "Go outside on the church ground and find some symbol of new life. When you bring it back, we will mix all of the eggs together and see what we have."

And so they did. Each youngster taking their little containers shaped like an egg and finding something and putting it inside and then waiting to see what would happen. As they came back into the Sunday school class, the Sunday school teacher opened the eggs. In one there was a flower and everyone said, "Oh, wonderful!" In another they opened the egg and there was a butterfly. The children marveled. And in another there was a stone. Someone said, "A stone? What does that mean?"

One little boy simply said, "Well, that represents new life to me."

The teacher then opened another and in this one there was nothing. The children began to laugh and said, "Who did that? Someone didn't follow the instructions. There's nothing in this egg!" And the little boy who was born Mongoloid said, "Teacher, teacher, that's my egg! It's empty because the tomb was empty!" The tomb was empty.

Thereafter, only a few months later, little Philip died. At his funeral service his little playmates walked to the altar, each of them placing on the altar a little container shaped like an egg: each one was empty. The promise of new life. It has already been done.

There is so much that we wonder about, so much uncertainty and change that occurs. We wonder what life has to offer and we look for some sense of certainty. What is it that we can believe? What is it that we can hold on to? What is it that we know to be true? What Easter does for us, of course, is to remind us of God's promise to us: a promise of hope, a promise of love, a promise that something has already happened to assure our eternal life.

So we come this Easter wondering, I am sure, about the future. What will happen in our neighborhoods? What will happen in our schools? What will happen to our children? What will happen in our government? So many questions. And there needs to be someplace where there is a sense of certainty, that which we can rely upon, that which we know for certain we can depend upon. Some of us call it the Easter faith. It is a promise that even in the midst of doubt, there can be certainty.

John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, once said that reason can only go so far, but we should employ it as far as it goes. Reason cannot assure faith, hope, and love. For that, says Wesley, we must look to a higher source. So at Easter we come and we look to a higher source. We look for light in darkness. We look for meaning where there is meaninglessness. And out of the Easter faith comes God's promise that God will have the final word; that God says "Yes!" to all the world's "Nos."

What "no: has the world said to you? No, because of gender? No, because of race? No, because of social class? No, because of too little education attained? No, no, no. Is there a "yes?" Is there something about which we can be utterly sure? Our Easter faith comes then as that promise. It is God's "Yes!" that we can depend upon. Certainty where there is doubt. It is God's promise to say to us, even in the midst of confusion, doubt, and disorganization, that, indeed, right will ultimately triumph; that justice will, indeed, transcend injustice; and that out of darkness will come light. It is in that Easter faith we are already sure that God has acted and given us the promise, despite what our circumstances might be.

I have a dear friend who tells of an experience in which he desired so badly to see a basketball game, but he had a church meeting. He was frustrated that he would not get home in time to see the basketball game. It was an important game to him. Finally, he got home and was surprised to see that the game was still going on. So he sat down and watched the basketball game with great enthusiasm with his daughter. She did not seem to be enthused at all. Finally, the game was over. The home team had won and he was cheering. He said to his daughter, "Why is it you seem so disinterested in the game? You seem to have no interest, no enthusiasm at all? Why?"

And she said to him, "Oh, Dad, the game was played an hour ago! I know who won. This is just a repeat of the game!"

I suppose, in a real sense, that's a part of our Easter faith. We already know who has won. We already know the end of the story. We already know that victory had been attained. We already know that truth will triumph, that right will triumph, and that justice will triumph. We already know that eternal life comes after death. It has already been done. You have already been given a place in eternity. It has already been done. Justice will transcend injustice. It has already been done. Right will prevail. It has already been done.

We come on this Easter singing our Alleluias, singing "Glory to God in the Highest!" We come because we already know the end of the story. The end of the story is that life is eternal, that right will ultimately triumph. We already know.

There is a story told of two Japanese monks, Tenzin and Icada. They were walking along the road one day and they came upon a beautiful women in silken gowns. She wondered how she could get across the road because there was mud. Finally, Tenzin, walked in the mud, lifted her up and took her along side the road. Icada was upset and angry and stayed that way all day for the remainder of the trip. Finally, he could take it no longer and said, "How could you do that? How could you touch a woman? You know it is against our faith."

Tenzin responded, "Oh, my friend, are you still carrying her? I had already left her along the side of the road."

It has already been done. We don't have to carry burdens that we carry. It has already been done. We have been made whole. It has already been done. That is the message of Easter. We sing our Alleluias, we sing our praises to God, and we give thanks that God in this miraculous way has changed history. And in changing history, He made a place for us. So sing your Alleluias and give thanks to God for all that God has already done in our behalf.

God bless you and have a joyous and happy Easter!

Floyd Brown: Bishop White, thank you again for a marvelous Easter message. I would like to ask you to elaborate on something. One of my favorite expressions is one I got from a speaker on this program who gave a sermon entitled, It May Be Friday, But Sunday is Coming. That is a wonderful statement of faith. What can you say to someone who would like to have your faith and your experience, but they don't have it? How can they raise the level of their faith?

Woodie White: For one thing, it doesn't happen all at once. You take small steps and begin by letting go. My mother used to have an expression,"Let go and let God." So we step out and understand that we don't have all of the answers, that we are not strong enough, that we are not smart enough, but there is One who is! Let go and let God. Take it in small steps and then faith grows. It grows with each new experience in life.

Brown: This is a marvelous time of the year. We think about various activities, stories, beliefs and the knowledge of things that have happened in our Christian faith. I heard someone say at once that perhaps we don't place enough importance on communion. What would you say to people in general in the church about communion? Do you feel that we do it just perfunctorily or do we really understand the importance of it?

White: I come out of a tradition that places great importance on the sacrament of Holy Communion. It is so important because this is a place where God is in charge. We call it a means of grace. By that, we simply mean that there is nothing you do to earn it. It doesn't matter if you are not good enough. You don't receive it because you have been faithful, but rather this is given to us by God and it is freely given. It is one place where all of us, I believe, stand on common ground because none of us are worthy. Whether Bishop, lay person, or clergy, none of us are worthy. Here God is in charge. It is God who is working in us, through us, and makes us whole. This sacrament is a wonderful experience to receive God in this very special way.

Brown: It's a privilege and it's a privilege to have you with us today, too. Bishop White, thank you for being with us again. We are delighted to have you here and it was a wonderful message.

White: God bless you and happy Easter!