March 2026

Good morning,

Have you noticed while watching a movie that sometimes you're more aware of the story's upcoming surprises than the characters are? There's a name for that. More later.

In the early afternoon of April 10, 1912, more than 2,200 passengers and crew boarded the most luxurious ship in the world … the Titanic. At the time, it was the largest moving object ever built.

The Titanic was the crown jewel of the Gilded Age — a time when industrial revolution created a world of nouveau riche, as well as massive social inequalities.

The passenger manifest on Titanic's maiden voyage was a concoction of Who's Who in First Class, and Who Cares in Third Class.

The top cabins, known as the Millionaires Suites, were going for $4,350 (about $145,000 in today's currency). However, for the budget-minded passenger, a third-class ticket was a measly $40 ($1,350 today), which allowed you to bunk with nine other passengers. The common bathroom was down the hall.

The ship's voyage was big news, and photographers crowded the red-carpeted First Class gangway to catch a glimpse of some of the world's wealthiest and most influential people.

Once aboard, luxury awaited — a heated saltwater swimming pool, a Turkish bath, gymnasium with a mechanical horse and camel, a squash court, and staterooms fashioned with Louis XIV, Italian Renaissance, and Queen Anne furnishings.

Sixty chefs and staff worked the five kitchens, providing ten course meals.

Prior to the launch, the Titanic's promotional ads claimed the ship was "designed to be unsinkable." Captain Edward John Smith said, "God himself couldn't sink this ship."

Five days into the voyage, the unsinkable Titanic sank to the bottom of the North Atlantic.

Fast forward to 1997 as the most expensive movie ever made recreated a romantic version of the Titanic. The film received fourteen Academy Award nominations, winning eleven. And, with two billion box office dollars, it became the highest grossing film of all time.

Repeated several times in the movie's dialog was the claim of Titanic's unsinkability.

Now, back to why you're more aware of a movie's surprises than the actors are.

There's a technique in movie making called Dramatic Irony. Dramatic Irony is when the audience knows critical information that the movie characters don't. This disparity between what we know and what they DON'T know creates suspense. And the longer this disparity exists, the more tension it builds.

Approximately 300 million people worldwide saw Titanic. It's safe to say that all 300 million knew exactly how the story would end … and yet, they came to see it anyway. Dramatic Irony does that.

Easter season — the high point of the church calendar — is just around the corner. Parking lots will be jammed, attendance will be high, and we'll see folks who don't often attend.

But why are they coming? It's because they know how the story ends and they want to hear it again.

Easter represents the greatest days in the history of the world — the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus. And through these events, "He made [us] alive together with Him, having forgiven us all our transgressions, having cancelled the certificate of debt against us … and nailed it to the cross" (Col 2.13-14).

The Dramatic Irony of the Easter story shows how …

• The fickle crowds hailed, "Hosanna to the Son of David," only to shout later, "Crucify Him!" But we know how the story ends.


• The Pharisees plotted against Him, a disciple betrayed Him, soldiers arrested Him, and Pilate sentenced Him. But we know how the story ends.


• Through a sea of mocking onlookers, He carried His own cross … and, in agony, they nailed Him to it. But we know how the story ends.


• Soldiers were assigned to seal and guard the tomb to ensure He could never rise from the dead. But we know how the story ends.

It's a story we love telling, and one our people love hearing again and again.

Our Savior lives,