WELCOME
Good morning First Baptist. We welcome you to worship this morning. Be sure to remember your brothers and sisters in Christ throughout the week as you pray for them, and as the Holy Spirit brings their faces to your mind. Be sure to also connect with them in the ways that are possible. And if you have any questions or would like to talk to someone, please don’t hesitate to contact the church through the church telephone and leave a message. (519-733-4144)
Call to Worship
Out of the darkness of grief and despair comes a message of hope. Christ is risen. Christ is risen, indeed. We run to the tomb to see for ourselves. And it is true. Christ is risen. Christ is risen, indeed. We hear a voice call our name, and we know our risen Lord is with us now and always. Christ is risen. Christ is risen, indeed. Thanks be to God.
Prayer
CONFESSION:
Loving God, we confess that at times we do not share in the joy of the resurrection but are caught in the worries of the world. We confess that we do not always live in the spirit of new life but remain discontent, grumbling and anxious. Forgive us for not sharing in the Good News. Forgive us when we find it more comfortable to worry and complain than to risk the joy and encouragement of new life in Christ. Call us back to Your ways, O God, to seek hope and reconciliation, restoration and peace. In the name of the Risen Christ, we pray.
Amen
ASSURANCE OF PARDON
Christ is Risen! The stone is rolled away, the tomb found empty. Mary calls out, “I have seen the Lord!” We have seen Christ, too, in every helping hand, in every heartfelt gift, in every choice to restore life in this world. We are called to this new life, a life of forgiveness and reconciliation. You are forgiven; accept your forgiveness and know that God loves you and desires great joy for your life. Walk forward on this journey of faith, knowing your brothers and sisters are with you. Amen.
Resurrecting Hope
Hope is Alive
Today's Message: Pastors Marlee Page and David Page
Happy Easter! We are so glad you’re here today—whether this is your church, your first time visiting, or you’ve come back for the first time in a while. However you got here, you’re welcome, you’re seen, and you matter.
We gather today because something happened over 2,000 years ago that changed everything. The man Jesus, who claimed to be the Son of God, was crucified… buried… and then three days later—He walked out of the grave.
He is risen!
(He is risen indeed!)
And because He is risen, hope is alive!
Before Easter was a celebration, before there were lilies on the altar, brunch reservations, pastel colours, and egg hunts, it was a weekend full of confusion, loss, and deep despair. For Jesus’ closest friends, those few days must have felt like the end of everything they believed in. Their Saviour was gone. Their hope was buried in a tomb. And maybe today, for some of you, That’s how life feels.
Because let’s be honest: It’s hard to hold on to hope in a world like ours. We scroll through headlines filled with war, political chaos, rising hate crimes, racial tension, economic instability, and so on. There’s violence in our schools, division in our homes, and loneliness in a lot of hearts. Some of us are battling anxiety or depression, struggling to make ends meet, or grieving the loss of someone we love. We see injustice that doesn’t seem to change. We hear about another shooting, another Tariff, another war zone and we wonder if things will ever get better.
So, we get it. It’s easy to feel like hope is in short supply these days.
And if you’re sitting here today carrying disappointment, fear, or even a quiet kind of numbness—first off, know that you’re not alone. That’s exactly the kind of space Easter steps into. Because the message of Easter isn’t just for people who have it all together. It’s for people who’ve been through the dark and need to know there’s still light ahead.
BEFORE THERE WAS EASTER JOY, THERE WAS GOOD FRIDAY GRIEF
Think for a moment what the disciples experienced that weekend. They had followed Jesus for three years. They watched Him heal the sick, raise the dead, calm storms, teach crowds, and love outcasts. They weren’t just His followers, they were His friends.
They believed with everything in them that He was the Messiah, the one who was going to set the world right.
But then Friday came.
They saw it unfold in horror. Their teacher, the one they believed would overthrow oppression and usher in a new kingdom, was arrested like a criminal in the middle of the night. They watched Him be betrayed by one of their own. They stood frozen as He was dragged through a sham of a trial, spit on, mocked, whipped until He was unrecognizable. They heard the crowd chant “Crucify Him!” and the sound of hammer against nails as He was hung on a cross. They heard His final cry “It is finished” and then… silence.
And when His body was taken down and laid in a cold tomb, sealed by a heavy stone, it wasn’t just the end of Jesus’ life. It felt like the end of everything.
The end of their purpose.
The end of their story.
The end of their hope.
Have you ever been there?
Not in Jerusalem, not at the foot of a cross, but in that place where your heart drops, and it feels like all the air has left the room?
Maybe your “Friday” came in the form of a relationship that shattered, a marriage that didn’t survive, a friendship that fractured beyond repair.
Maybe it was a job you gave everything to, only to be let go with nothing but a box and a goodbye.
Maybe it was when the doctor walked into the room with that diagnosis, or when the pregnancy test came back negative… again. Or when you held your breath during the ultrasound and heard the words you never wanted to hear.
Maybe it came through betrayal, when someone you trusted turned their back on you, or said things that cut you to your core.
Maybe it came when you stood at a gravesite, holding back tears, wishing for just one more moment.
Sometimes our disappointments come like paper cuts—small and subtle, but they sting just the same. Other times, it feels like the whole floor of our life gives way, and we’re left trying to breathe under the rubble of grief, fear, and questions.
We’ve all known what It’s like to lose something we thought we’d always have. To feel like the future we dreamed of has vanished into thin air. To ask God where He is—and hear only silence.
And if you’ve ever felt that kind of ache, if you’ve ever said, “I didn’t think it would turn out like this” then you’re in the exact place the disciples were on Easter morning.
HOPE SHOWS UP WHEN WE LEAST EXPECT IT
Let’s go to John 20, a real story, about a real woman named Mary Magdalene.
She had followed Jesus too. Her life had been radically changed by Him. He had delivered her from darkness, shown her love, given her purpose.
After the crucifixion, while the city was still asleep, Mary went to the tomb. She brought burial spices. She wasn’t expecting a miracle she was there to mourn. But when she got there, the stone was rolled away. The tomb was empty.
Her first thought wasn’t resurrection, it was robbery. She thought someone had taken the body.
Scripture Reading: John 20:11-18, Genesis 3:8-10, John 11:25
John 20:11-18
Mary Magdalene Sees the Risen Lord
11 But Mary stood outside by the tomb weeping, and as she wept she stooped down and looked into the tomb. 12 And she saw two angels in white sitting, one at the head and the other at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain. 13 Then they said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?”
She said to them, “Because they have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid Him.”
14 Now when she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, and did not know that it was Jesus. 15 Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?”
She, supposing Him to be the gardener, said to Him, “Sir, if You have carried Him away, tell me where You have laid Him, and I will take Him away.”
16 Jesus said to her, “Mary!”
She turned and said to Him, “Rabboni!” (which is to say, Teacher).
17 Jesus said to her, “Do not cling to Me, for I have not yet ascended to My Father; but go to My brethren and say to them, ‘I am ascending to My Father and your Father, and to My God and your God.’ ”
18 Mary Magdalene came and told the disciples that she had seen the Lord, and that He had spoken these things to her.
Genesis 3:8-10
8 And they heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and Adam and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden.
9 Then the Lord God called to Adam and said to him, “Where are you?”
10 So he said, “I heard Your voice in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; and I hid myself.”
John 11:25
25 Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in Me, though he may die, he shall live.
Now, fast forward to our scene in the tomb.
Jesus—the risen Saviour—is in His creation, and again, He’s looking for the ones He loves. But this time, instead of shame separating us, instead of us hiding, It’s His grace that brings us close.
Easter is the reversal of the fall. It’s Jesus saying, “I came to find you. I came to restore you.”
Hasn’t it felt like, in this year, winter has dragged on forever. Months of freezing temperatures, gray skies, bare trees, and slippery sidewalks. And then one day you walk outside and something’s different. There’s warmth in the air. Buds on the trees. A tulip pushing up through the garden.
Life returns.
It might take longer than we want. It might not be obvious at first. But spring always comes.
So does God.
Just like the changing seasons, He knows exactly when and where to show up. He hasn’t forgotten you. And if you’re in a long winter right now—hold on. Easter is proof that life is coming.
Martin Luther once said:
“Our Lord has written the promise of resurrection, not in books alone, but in every leaf in springtime.”
Now, don’t miss this, what happened on Easter morning wasn’t just a miracle. It wasn’t just a “comeback” story. It was a cosmic victory. A once-and-for-all declaration that death no longer has the final say. Easter is not just about an empty tomb; It’s about a new reality.
See, in our world, death is supposed to be the end. That’s the unbreakable rule. You live, you die, and that’s it. That’s the rule of nature. It’s the rule of grief. It’s the rule of every funeral we’ve ever stood at, every goodbye we’ve ever whispered through tears. Death feels permanent. I mean, when someone’s gone, they’re gone, right?
But Jesus broke the system.
He didn’t just delay death He defeated it. He didn’t just cheat the grave He emptied it of its power. He took on the full weight of our sin, carried the punishment we could never pay, endured the full force of God’s wrath on our behalf, and then walked out of the grave like a warrior returning home, scars and all, but fully victorious. Undefeated. Untouchable.
And Folks, that changes everything!
Jesus said in John 11:25:
“I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in Me will live, even though they die.”
That’s a revolutionary statement. That means:
- Pain doesn’t get the last word.
- Cancer doesn’t get the last word.
- Addiction doesn’t get the last word.
- Shame doesn’t get the last word.
- Failure, depression, regret, heartbreak—none of it gets the last word.
- Not even death itself gets the last word.
Because Jesus does.
And He has spoken life, hope, and victory over everyone who believes in Him.
That’s not just theology. That’s not just something to write in the margins of your Bible or hang on your wall in calligraphy. That’s real hope. The kind of hope that puts its boots on and walks with you through the valley of the shadow of death. The kind that whispers, “Keep going, this isn’t over,” when everything around you says otherwise.
It’s the kind of hope that says:
- This isn’t the end.
- You are not too far gone.
- Your best days aren’t behind you.
- You haven’t missed your shot.
The tomb wasn’t the finish line—It’s the starting point!
The resurrection means the worst thing is never the last thing. Because Jesus is alive, hope is alive. Because Jesus walked out of His grave, you can walk out of yours—whatever your grave looks like today.
Maybe your grave is fear. Or addiction. Or insecurity. Maybe It’s apathy or cynicism or bitterness. Maybe you’ve buried parts of your heart so deep, you stopped believing they could ever come back to life.
But Easter declares nothing is too dead for Jesus to resurrect.
There’s still breath.
There’s still purpose.
There’s still life left to live.
So let me ask you—what if you really believed that? What if today, right here, you chose to step out of the tomb you’ve been living in? What if you let the power that raised Christ from the dead breathe new life into you?
That’s what Easter is all about.
HOPE IS CALLING YOUR NAME
Just like Jesus stood outside the tomb and gently spoke Mary’s name, He is calling your name today.
And I want you to hear this clearly:
He’s not calling you to shame you.
He’s not calling to remind you of everything you’ve done wrong.
He’s not calling to condemn you or to scold you for how far you’ve drifted.
He’s calling you home.
He’s calling you back to life.
He’s calling you into the kind of relationship your heart was created for—deep, real, healing relationship with the God who made you, knows you, and still loves you more than you can begin to imagine.
And He knows your story.
He knows your wounds.
He knows the silent questions you carry.
He knows about the pain you don’t talk about and the battles you’re still fighting.
He knows how tired you are of pretending everything’s okay when it isn’t.
Some of you here today, you believe in Jesus. You’ve walked with Him, maybe for years but somewhere along the way, your faith has gotten tired. Life happened. Tragedy hit. The fire dimmed. And though you still come to church, still say the right words, if you’re honest, your heart has been on autopilot.
You’re here—but not really here.
Jesus is calling your name too. Not to guilt you, but to invite you into more. To wake you up again. To remind you that faith isn’t just about belief. It’s about a living, breathing relationship with the Resurrected One who wants to restore the joy of your salvation, who wants to bring your faith back to life.
Others of you used to believe. You grew up in church. Maybe you were on fire for God once but things happened. Questions went unanswered. Hypocrisy turned you off. Maybe church hurt you, or life disappointed you. And slowly, you walked away.
But even if you let go of God—He never let go of you.
Even if you stopped showing up—He’s still been showing up for you.
Even if you feel a million miles away—He’s just one step behind you, waiting for you to turn around.
He’s not finished with your story.
He’s not tired of your doubts.
He’s not afraid of your questions.
He still wants you. All of you.
And then there are some of you who have never really made that decision. You’ve heard about Jesus. You might believe in God. But you’ve never surrendered your life to Him. You’ve never said “yes” to grace. You’ve never experienced the kind of love that changes everything.
Let me tell you today, that can change.
Today, hope has a name and His name is Jesus.
He’s the only one who can carry the weight of your sin.
He’s the only one who can bring dead things back to life.
He’s the only one who can fill the ache in your heart that nothing else has ever satisfied.
So today, wherever you are on your journey—with full faith, fractured faith, or no faith at all—can I invite you to say yes?
Say yes to the One who knows your name.
Say yes to the One who sees through all your masks and still calls you beloved.
Say yes to the resurrection life that begins now and lasts forever.
Yes to grace.
Yes to mercy.
Yes to a fresh start.
Yes to Jesus.
You don’t have to have it all figured out. You don’t need to clean yourself up first. All you need is a willing heart that says, “I’m ready.”
Hope is calling your name.
Will you answer?
Prayer
Jesus, we thank You.
We thank You for the cross where love was poured out, where sin was defeated, where grace was made visible in its most powerful form. We thank You for the empty tomb. the final word that death is not the end, that hope lives, and that new life is possible through You.
We thank You for seeing each one of us, even in the places where we feel buried in doubt, disappointment, or despair. Even when we have wandered from You, questioned You, or felt far from You, You have never stopped loving us. You have never stopped calling our names.
Today, Lord, we come before You as we are, tired, wounded, searching, or unsure.
We bring our heartbreak and our hidden pain. We bring the questions that keep us up at night and the faith that feels worn thin. We bring the burdens we’ve carried silently, the shame we can’t seem to shake, and the grief we’re still trying to understand.
We ask You, Jesus—call our names again. Just as You spoke Mary’s name in the garden, speak into the fog of our lives. Wake up what has died inside us. Breathe Your Spirit into the dry places of our hearts. Resurrect our faith. Reignite our passion. Restore what has been broken.
Remind every soul here that they are known and deeply loved.
Today, we choose to say yes to You.
Yes to grace.
Yes to healing.
Yes to the hope that cannot be shaken.
Yes to following You with everything we are.May the power of Your resurrection shape how we live, how we love, and how we hope. We believe, Lord. Help us in our unbelief. We are Yours, now and forever.
Amen.
WHAT’S NEXT?
Today is just the beginning.
Easter reminds us that hope is alive—but it doesn’t stop here. We’re just getting started.
We’re diving into a new series called “Resurrecting Hope,” and next week we’re talking about something so many of us recognize as being an issue in our community – the welfare and nurture of our young people. Next week, Tim Dyck, a missionary to Kingsville with Youth unlimited will be joining us to share a vision of how he and Youth unlimited are seeking to “Resurrecting Hope” for the young people of our community.
So don’t let today be a one-time thing. Come back. Bring someone with you—someone who could really use some encouragement or fresh hope right now.
We’d love to walk this journey with you, one week at a time.
Benediction
We’ve walked through the sorrow of the cross, we’ve sat in the silence of Saturday, and now we stand in the light of resurrection Sunday.
Hope is alive.
So, as you leave today, carry this truth with you: Jesus still calls names. He still brings dead things back to life and He still meets us right where we are with grace, with love, and with unstoppable hope.
Go out and live as people of the resurrection. Tell the story. Shine the light. Be a voice of hope in a world that desperately needs it.
Christ is Risen! Alleluia.