This past Sunday was our church's Resurrection celebration. As part of that celebration, we rented the clubhouse at one of the local parks. This particular clubhouse is a neo-classical turn-of-the century mansion that dates from the park's days as a country club. The back wall of the clubhouse's central room is lined with windows that look out over the Illinois river flowing gently just a few yards away.
It was a neat setting to celebrate the Resurrection. But I'm trying to remember when the last time was that I saw snowfall during the Easter Sunrise Service. Kind of a surreal experience actually. But of all of things we celebrate in life, there is nothing so worthy of celebration as the fact of the Resurrection. Lots of religions (primarily pagan fertility cults) believe in a god who dies and rises. But in only one did it actually occur.