The house is surrounded by fog this morning, dulling outside
sounds and making the bird cries more prevalent. It sounds like an aviary, and it is lovely
sound for an Easter morning.
What we call Good Friday has passed; though the disciples
probably did not associate good with that day.
Their leader, teacher, and friend was subjected to brutal punishment and
execution on a cross. Hung there to die,
slowly and painfully – the hearts must have been such an overwhelming mix of grief,
fear, anger, hurt, shock, and confusion.
How could the populace do this? Why
would they do this to someone who has healed and fed so many? Why couldn’t I stop it? And the realization hit with Peter, I denied
my friend. That is the overwhelming
realization of Good Friday – self (I) was a contributing factor. Even now, many hundreds of years later, the
realization still hits with a cold shock – it was me.
The disciples were confronted with the death of Jesus and
had a whole Sabbath day to think over the events, over and over. On that day of rest, I doubt they rested
much. I can imagine the tears, silent
and noisy, staring into space as the wondering of what comes next and grief
take back over. Was there a hint of
hope, a realization of what was coming, and any relief in the pain? The men and women who went through those days,
days that were years long in mind and heart, did not have the benefit of understanding
immediately what was to occur next.
But, miraculously, the story does not end in this haze of
confusion and pain. Women went to
prepare the body of Jesus for burial, honoring him in their best way even at the
last. They arrived where he was to be
entombed, but there was not a body there.
Instead, there was a messenger who delivered amazing and miraculous news,
“Why do you seek
the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember
how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the
Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful
men and be crucified and on the third day rise.” Did the women look at each other, a spark of
hope and yet blanketed in fear in their eyes?
The spark grew and they took steps of faith in great joy. Joy, overwhelming in its intensity must have
taken over as the realization hits – Jesus is not dead! The meaning of the three days, the rising on
the third day – it suddenly makes sense.
And now, even now, the intensity again hits as we realize – the story
did not end there, He is Alive!
A few days in the life of the followers of Christ, that most
likely seemed as if they were years long.
Blanketed in their own fog, the sounds around them were louder, sounds
of grief and then of wonderment and joy.
We may wonder, how can those days, those few hours so many years ago impact
me. It is the simple realization that my
lack of perfection, my sins as an individual that created the separation from
Christ that hits with the Good Friday death.
“It was me, he died for me,” is the whisper cry of so many hearts. But, the moment does not end in death, we
realize that death was overcome and life won – life eternal. The joy comes in a wave as we realize that
the tide turns and we have an opportunity for life as well. The condemned receives a reprieve as the
innocent stands and takes the punishment for me, for you.
Happy Easter – the grave that held Jesus is empty! He is alive!
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