Recently I attended a magnificent worship service at an equally magnificent cathedral. I was again captivated by the beauty of worship done well. I found myself transported to new places, new insights. I listened to the choir as they sang their anthem and over and over again they intoned,

"Jesus is the reason. Jesus is the reason."

Yes. Yes, I thought. That is why all this beauty and mystery means so much to me.

Jesus.

That is why I occasionally gather up the courage to risk my life in love.

Jesus.

That is why countless men and women have devoted their lives to serving the needs of others, caring for the loveless, feeding the hungry, liberating the oppressed.

Jesus.

What truth the choir sang.

I then looked down at the program I was holding and where the words to the choir’s anthem were printed.

They weren’t singing, "Jesus is the reason" at all. I had misunderstood. Instead, they were singing, "Jesus hath arisen. Jesus hath arisen."

I laughed to myself as they finished the piece of choral beauty. I laughed and realized that I hadn’t really misunderstood.

I know that Jesus hath arisen. I know it not because someone demands that I accept it. Not because the church tells me I must. Not because tradition decrees it. I know it because Jesus is the reason, the reason for meaning and purpose in my life.

Jesus is the reason and thus I, too, can say, "Jesus hath arisen."