Here we are in Easter, yet it feels more like an extended Holy Saturday.
Trusting dying is not giving up, it is giving to God. Death is one end, but it is not the end.
A closed casket, the use of the pall, and matching hangings and vestments in the color of Easter visually shift the focus away from death and dead bodies to the resurrection.
Macbeth cannot meet any morning with hope, so his mornings relentlessly arrive, cheerless and bleak.
There is a strange kind of overlapping that we Christians find ourselves living out in between the first advent of Christ and his eventual glorious appearing.
The resurrection is not disconnected from the world of the Scriptures, but is rather an integral part.