As day drew closed, the friends he chose, now battered, scattered. Dread arose. It choked their faith. It stole their words and dealt their courage deadly blows. Etched upon each tortured mind the graphic punishment He bore. Unable to erase the cruel crown of thorns He wore. Anguished moans rose above the clamor of the crowd, eerily still hanging on their hearts a heavy shroud. That bloody scene, what did it mean? This turn of events was unforeseen. Strength failed. Sleep evaded. Hope faded. Fear invaded. Darkness stole into the room, robed in gloom that tried to consume their memories of His words of life, and seal them in a hillside tomb…
Time played games as all around them life moved on while mourning bound them to the scenes, replayed like dreams. With every lash, His tortured screams. Blackened skies, final cries. His face- no longer recognized. This twisted remnant of a man, pinned in place through feet and hands, His silence and His agony, consumed their thoughts and energy. But empty, weak and broken, full of sorrows yet unspoken, three days had taken quite a toll upon each crushed and barren soul…
Then unexpectedly, outside, came sounds from down the street. Familiar voices called their names to the beat of running feet! “Phillip! Andrew! Thaddeus! Open up the door! Day has dawned and things are not as though they were before!” Knuckles rapping on the sill, urging words in tones so shrill, “News we have! Wake up my friends or all your neighbors will!”
The men delayed. Their options weighed. Terrified and still dismayed, they disbelieved these stirring words and so they stayed. Disobeyed. Frozen fast until at last, Peter rose and stumbled past his trembling friends who hung their heads in shame of doubt with eyes downcast. With sullen steps he lumbered for the door, fumbling with the lock. Bursting in, the women shared a tale that caused their world to rock!
“We’ve seen the empty grave!” “He’s gone!” “An angel told us He’s alive!” “Come and see the place so you can know yourselves we haven’t lied!”
Once again, dumbfounded, the disciples did not dare believe. How could these things be true? It was simply too much to conceive. Their eyes had seen his awful death. Their ears had heard his final breath. The women in their sorrow must have somehow been deceived!
Still something in the message was compelling. A mustard seed of faith was gently swelling. Jesus often spoke to them of resurrection power. Could it have been His own tale He’d been telling? Peter had to see if all these things they said were so. If no one else went with him, he decided he must go. But John was on his heels and off they sprinted side by side. Their sandaled feet kicked up a cloud of dust with every stride.
Breathless, shaking, stopping short they saw the heavy stone was moved. In the tomb his linen cloth. Did this evidence now prove that Jesus had defeated death? Conquered sin? Denied the grave? Could He be alive and all of Israel come to save?
Questions lingered. Hope was churning. In confusion, homeward turning. Gathering the others to discuss what they observed, when suddenly the Lord appeared and left them quite unnerved! “A ghost!” they cried, but Jesus quickly calmed them with a word. “Peace!” He said and suddenly a miracle occurred! Eleven men who days before felt utterly forsaken, were in an instant filled with joy, so glad to be mistaken!
“My Lord, my God!” their lips confessed. “You live and we believe!” and still today this truth transforms each heart that will receive. The Easter message hasn’t changed. From sin man can be freed! For Christ who died to pay sin’s price is risen, yes indeed!
