Back around World War II, before the war, there was a man - a widower - who was a renowned art collector. He had a knack for finding good art, so that hi collection was known among art experts world-wide. He also had a son, and as the boy grew up, he became interested in art as well. In fact, he became even better than his father at recognizing true "finds," which pleased his dad to no end. The two were very happy, traipsing the world together, looking for rare pieces. Then the war came, and the son felt duty-bound to go. He was only gone a few months, when a telegram arrived: "We regret to inform you that your son is missing in action." A couple of days later, the old man's worst fears were realized, when he was informed that his son was killed, trying to save a fallen comrade.

The old man was crushed. As he sat before his fireplace in his great mansion, surrounded by all his beautiful artwork, it could not relieve his heartbreak. In fact, as he looked at each piece, they brought back a flood of memories of their trips together, making his longing for his beloved son all the more intense.

Christmas came. On Christmas Day, there was a knock at the door. It was a young soldier, with a large package under his arm. The old man invited him in and, as he entered, noticed his limp. The young man finally explained: "I was on the front lines with your son. I was shot, and your son dragged me back toward help but, in the process, he was shot. I was the man he saved, at the cost of his own life." Then he presented the package to the old man. "I know I can never repay you for what your son did for me. But I'm an artist, and I wanted you to have this." The old man unwrapped the package. It was a painting of his son. It wasn't great art, but you could read the details of love in every stroke. "Thank you," the old man said. "I will give it a place o honor inmy house." And he did. He took down one of his most valuable paintings and hung it in its place, right over the fireplace. And every day he would gaze at it and, as more and more stories of his son's heroism came to him, it seemed to increase in balue to him. Sometimes he could even be found talking to it, as if his son was actually there.

The old man died. In his will, he stipulated that his paintings be put up for auction, and that the auction take place on Christmas Day - the day he received the painting of his son. All the big art buyers were there, anxious to get their hands on his collection. the auctioneer gaveled the auction to order. "May we have the first painting, please?" he said.

It was uncovered. It was the painting of the son. It wasn't a very good painting, and by an unknown artist. The crowd snickered: "What's this? Where are the good paintings? We didn't come here for this!" "The will of the old man stipulated," the auctioneer explained, "that this painting would be sole first. Now, what is the opening bid?"

The crowd groaned. Some rolled their eyes. No one would be caught dead bidding on that. There was a long, restless silence. Finally, a man in the back spoke up: "Well, I only came to watch. The old man and his son were friends of mine, and I know what that painting meant to him. I've only got ten dollars, but if that's o.k., I'd like to have it."

"Ten dollars!" cried the auctioneer. "Going once. Going twice. Sold!" The bidders grew excited: "Now, let's get to the important stuff!" But the auctioneer slammed down the gavel. "The auction is over!"

"What? What do you mean, 'the auction is over?!' What about all of the other paintings?" they cried.

"That was the other stipulation of the will," the auctioneer explained. Whoever took the first painting, gets the rest. Whoever receives the son, gets it all!"

"Whoever receives the Son, gets it all." That is the message of the Gospel for you today. Because of Jesus' sacrifice, the riches of the Father are all yours. You could never have afforded them. You could never have been deserving of them. But because of His love for His Son, they are now all yours.

On Easter morning, before the break of day, Mary and the disciples came to the tomb, bearing broken hearts, hearts filled with frustration and confusion. They had been beaten down and beaten up. They questioned themselves: Why didn't they fight for him? Why didn't they stop him from coming to Jerusalem? Maybe they hadn't done enough, maybe they just weren't good enough, maybe they just didn't try hard enough. They didn't know where to turn. Some hid in the upper room. Some went back to fishing. Mary wept in the garden, returning to the last place she saw Him. Then Jesus came, and uttered her name, "Mary!" And her faith sprang to life once more. Not only was Jesus resurrected, but so was she, as she received new life in this Easter faith. "Whoever receives the son, gets it all." She had Jesus, and with Him, every possibility of heaven was showered on her as well.

How about you this morning? How's your week been? How's your life been? Do you feel a bit beat down and beat up? Perhaps you, like the disciples, feel discouraged, confused, and don't know where to turn. Or perhaps you don't feel good enough, like you've done enough with your life. Maybe you've been hiding from God, or just been keeping busy so that you don't have to think about it. Or maybe you're standing here this morning with Mary, in the last place you remember Him being, weeping because He isn't here any more. But Jesus is here! He is risen! He is alive! And today, he is gently calling your name - the name he called over you in your baptism. Respond to the call of Easter faith! Respond to the call of your risen Lord! Receive new life in your Lord, Jesus! And with that resurrected faith, know that every possibility, every gift of heaven is open to you! For "whoever receive the Son, gets it all!" Alleluia! Amen!