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He walked slowly up the stairs. He didn’t really want to go into that room. He didn’t want to face them. But he had nowhere else to go. It was dark, cold and the Jews may be out for more blood. What a difference a few hours had made. It seemed like just minutes ago that he’d left this upper room with his buddies and the Teacher. He could still smell the aroma of the roasted Lamb, he could still see the Teacher’s shadow in the distance as he prayed. How could he have fallen asleep? If only he’d known.
He tried to open the door quietly, but the rusty hinges gave him away. The others in the room looked up when he entered. Not one said a word. The air had been filled with celebration earlier, but now it was heavy, full of grief and sadness.
He found a corner and slid down the wall. He buried his face in his hands. He began to cry again. This time, there were few tears left. He sensed a shape near him and heard John’s voice.
“Did you hear about Judas?” John’s face was full of grief and fear when he looked up.
“They got Judas too?”
“No,” there was a heavy pause, “he hung himself.”
Peter placed his face back in his hands “When will it end?”
He may have slept a bit. If so, it would be the first sleep he’d had in two days. But his rest was shattered by a rattling gate. Instantly everyone was up. They were here. At any moment soldiers could break through.
John looked carefully through the drawn window. “It’s only Mary. Let her in.”
Mary bust through the door. She was breathless from running and could barely speak.
“He’s not there. The tomb. He’s gone. They took his body!”
Peter broke through the crowd. “What are you talking about?” He demanded.
“I went to the tomb to mourn. The stone was rolled away. The tomb was empty Peter!”
Peter hesitated to try to understand. Then he bolted from the room and ran down the steps. He hurried through the streets. ‘It couldn’t be,’ He told himself. When he and John got to the tomb it was just as Mary had told them. The grave clothes lay in a neat pile. The small room smelled of fresh burial spices. But there was no one there.
Peter’s mind was racing. He was angry at the Jews for taking his body. But what if they hadn’t taken it? “What if….NO! I saw him die.” He got back to the room before the others returned. He didn’t know what to make of things. So many questions. What was it he said? The Son of Man must be lifted up? What did he mean? Where was his body?
A thousand other questions went through his mind when suddenly the cool, dark room was warm and full of light. He looked up to see the Teacher. Peter fell to his knees and hung his head. A hand reached down and pulled him to his feet. The Teacher gently lifted Peter’s head so that he could see his eyes.
Peter didn’t understand completely, but looking into Jesus’ eyes he knew everything would be okay.
I am publishing this excerpt from my Built with Grace topic, ‘The Day Peter Learned Love’, to remind all of us on this Resurrection Weekend that it doesn’t matter what you have done. There is nothing in your past, present or future that can keep you from experiencing the life-changing love and forgiveness of Jesus Christ. Find a house of worship this weekend and make or renew a decision to follow Him completely.
A woman contemplates suicide. She’s a hooker, a mom, and addict. She has stooped so low as to sell not only her body, but the body of her three year old daughter to support her habit. At the end of her options, with no where to turn, she seeks out a counselor. He suggests church and she is shocked. “Why,” She asks angrily, “Would I go to church. I already feel bad enough about me. Why would I want to go someplace where I’d only be made to feel worse about myself?
A soldier sinks low in his foxhole. Bullets and rockets fly overhead. He’s been gone from home for two years fighting this war. He opens a bent and crumpled envelope. It’s from his home church. Anticipation rises within him. Expectantly he opens the letter, only to find that he has been dropped from the membership because he has fallen behind in his annual giving. When he returns home he never again darkens the door of a church.
They ‘did all the right things’ as parents. They had family devotions. They were involved in their local church. They took an active part in the social, educational and spiritual lives of their four wonderful children. They were good, Godly, caring parents. Then, within a span of two years, three of their children are taken in tragic, separate accidents. Three young lives taken before they really had a chance to bloom. Mom and Dad were never the same. The lone, remaining child struggled with drugs as he dealt with the tragic turn of his life. Throughout this tragic turn of events in this devastated family, the church remained strangely quiet.
What has happened in 2000 years that has made those who used to cling to the feet of Jesus, run from him in anger and shame? When did the church place the importance of money before the giving of one’s life for his country? How did we lose the compassion of the church in Acts to overlook the pain of our brothers and sisters?
The United States of America has more freedom, and opportunities to show the love of Christ than any country in the world. Yet churches close every week because there are no longer enough people attending to fill the pews. We are a nation of ‘empty pew people’. People who for a variety of reasons have turned their backs on the one person that can give them the fulfillment they seek.
In the book of Galatians, the Apostle Paul writes to a group of people that have fallen into the trap of legalistic thinking. They had become more intent on rules and regulations, and less concerned about living relationally. In Chapter 5, verse one he earnestly pleads with them to remember that we were born to be free.
The body of Christ needs to return to being a living organism of faith and mercy and love. Each of us has the responsibility to show the Grace of our Lord Jesus to those who might make us uneasy, or take us out of our comfort zone. Our Heavenly Father can’t do His work when we confine Him within the walls of ‘church-ianity.’
(From “When Grace Isn’t Enough: Amazingly Graceless”)
