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The angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. Matthew 28:5-6
I wonder how many times the scene of Jesus’ last breath played itself over and over in the minds of the Mary’s and the other disciples of Jesus that Sabbath day after the crucifixion. What was it like in the synagogue services the next day.
Remember. It was Passover. The city was full of people who had come toJerusalemfor the celebration. Many of them had no doubt heard Jesus speak. They had seen him heal the blind and the lame. They’d seen him cast out demons and raise people from the dead. Some of them may even have been the recipient of Jesus’ touch…and now he was dead.
There must have been a tremendous amount of fear. The Synagogue rulers had always been powerful. They had made rules that were impossible to keep. And now, if the Jews could kill Jesus, what could stop them? Who was next? Would this bring down the Roman guard against others? Even the Roman that watched Jesus die said “Surely, this was the son of God!”
In the homes and gathering places of thousands of Jews there had to have been confusion. So many had thought this was truly the Messiah, and now he was gone. Some may have celebrated. With ever one of these ‘religious zealots’ that came along they carried a threat that the Romans would come in and smash the uprising. Others were no doubt angry. Angry at the Jews for killing a good man. Angry at God for not protecting Jesus. Angry at Jesus for getting their hopes up. Anger doesn’t have to make sense. It only needs an object to attack.
Were the Mary’s at the Synagogue that day? I’ll bet they were. So were many other followers of Jesus. Maybe even a few of the disciples. They came to pray, to worship, to ask ‘why?’ Sabbath was so much more than a ‘Sunday’ in our culture. There was nothing else going on. It was a time of reflection. A time for families. And on this endless Sabbath, a day of remembering.
It’s no wonder then that early the next morning a handful of women made their way through the quiet streets ofJerusalemwith a few vials of oil. They went to remember. They went to worship. They went so that one more time they could say good-bye to their Lord and Savior.
But what joy would await them. Two shining angels. A rolled away stone. An empty tomb. An announcement that would become the battle cry of Christ-followers through the ages.
“We know why you came here this morning. You came looking for Jesus. He’s not here. He’s risen…just like he said he would.
Isn’t that just like Jesus? He did EXACTLY as he said he would. He still does today. Every promise will come true. HE IS RISEN. HE IS RISEN INDEED!
PRAYER: Dear Jesus. Thank you so much for dying for my sins. Thank you for the forgiveness, grace and mercy you make available to me. I give you all the honor, all the praise for you are God! Amen.
“The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel” (which means “God with us”). Matthew 1:23
A few months ago now, a friend of mine had a baby. As held that newborn I was once again amazed at the beauty of new life. The tiny little fingers. The soft, supple skin. The complete and total helplessness of this creation of God. Amazing.
My mind shot ahead. I’m a bit of a sap at times I guess. I thought of my own children and how every day became a new adventure in exploration and discovery as they grow older. Sometimes they get themselves in trouble. There are times when the ordinary and mundane to us is a complete and exciting adventure to them. And have you ever noticed how a little baby can turn even the most refined adult into a babbling idiot making all sort of gibberish to elicit a smile or a giggle?
I wonder if Mary thought about those things as she watched the events surrounding Passover the year of Jesus’ crucifixion. He was her first born. Together she had shared the wonder of new life with him. For him, a new life in a human body. For her the wonder of her very own newborn baby. The Bible says she treasured ‘all these things’ in her heart. The message of the angels; the events leading up to his birth; the visit from the strange nobility from the East; the tragic news of the slaughter of her friend’s children at the hands of a greedy, ruthless King.
Did she stand at the foot of the cross and wonder, “When did he grow up?” To a mom her first born is always her baby. Always holds a special place in her life.
There are a lot of things we don’t know about Jesus. Many events of his growing up years and his ministry that have been locked in the annals of time. Some perhaps far too mundane to even be mentioned. He was, to many after all, just a good guy, a great teacher, a friend who was closer than a brother.
Oh, but he was so much more than that! He was a king who never lost sight of the leper or the cripple. He was a gentle father who never forgot the true identity of the prodigal son or the woman caught in adultery. He was God and he came to earth to die for the undeserving and grant eternal life to the eternally hopeless. God with us. The true story of Grace. The true story of Easter.
PRAYER: Dear Jesus. In light of your miracles and deity it’s so hard to remember that you were also a baby, a child, a man. You experienced all the tragedies and victories of life as I have. Thank you for giving your life so I can live forever. Thank you for taking my sin so I can live free of guilt. In your holy name I pray, Amen.
Mike Fisk & Built with Grace 