One day, while a couple was enjoying their breakfast, the wife looked out the window and noticed their new neighbor hanging freshly-washed clothing. Turning to her husband she observed, "Look at how dirty her clothes are. The whites look so brown, and the colors are so faded." The husband remained silent. A few weeks later, the couple again found themselves watching the neighbor hang her laundry. This time, with a tone of disdain, the man’s wife declared, “Someone needs to teach that lady how to launder properly!” Again the husband said nothing.
About a month later the couple again found themselves seated for breakfast and the neighbor hanging laundry. This time, however, the wife exclaimed with surprise: "Look, someone taught her how to launder properly! Those whites are so bright, and the colors so vibrant!" The husband quietly looked up from his bowl of oatmeal, stating flatly, "I washed the window." Many of us have a distorted picture of God, with our perceptions of him misinformed by family life, culture, and/or religious institutions.
In parts one and two, our perception of God was clarified as we witnessed his heart on display in Jesus. Though he endured the cruelest form of punishment, its physical pain and agony were dwarfed by the suffocating blackness brought on as he bore our collective guilt and shame. Amid that darkness, we saw pure, selfless love flowing from him, leaving us in awe. We watched as he freely forgave those who crucified him, as well as the thief beside him. We saw his gentle kindness as he entrusted his mother to John's care. As we stood riveted, watching the guilt of humanity crushing out his life, we heard that wrenching cry, "My God, My God, why have you forsaken (abandoned) me?" In his death, he experienced that suffocating loss that will be the fate of all who reject the way of other-centered love. We ended our last reflection with Jesus’ final words: "It is finished. Into your hand I commit my spirit."
Today, I invite you to join us on one more journey in Mr. Whitaker's Imagination Station.
Hang on!
With a shudder, the control panels fade and the darkness presses in once again. We find ourselves at the foot of the cross. The scene is changed, however. The soldiers have stopped their drinking and shouting, staring at Jesus in disbelief. The once-exultant, jeering religious leaders, now shiver with fright. As our eyes follow their gaze, they come to rest on the still-gentle face of Jesus which, though bloodied, is unmistakably peaceful. Perfectly peaceful.
As we look on, the wealthy Joseph of Arimathea, along with a handful of others, proceeds to take the body of Jesus down for burial. Once they’ve tenderly removed him from the cross, we decide to follow them to the tomb, where they roll away a huge stone, revealing the burial chamber. Gently, Jesus' body is laid inside. The small, heart-broken knot gathered near his body are silent, respectful. Slowly they step back. We again follow into the chilly evening air as we finally catch a glimpse of the sinking western sun. The heavy stone is rolled back into place.
While the small, heartbroken group disperses, we decide to simply wait. Soon, however, the silence is broken by the unmistakable commotion of a Roman detachment. In a moment, a soldier is heard barking out stern, brief commands, driving us further into the the garthering darkness. We huddle at a distance, watching the guards seal the tomb, and then move into position to maintain its security. Before we realize it, night is upon us, and the Sabbath has begun.
A day for the rest and worship of God, it feels strange, as if desecrated by the savage events of the past forty-eight hours. Religious leaders, entrusted with leading the worship of God, have instead masterminded his murder. While weighed down with heavy hearts and trepidation, we're relieved as the Sabbath passes without further incident near the tomb, only a vacant emptiness and the boistrous noise of the irreverent Roman detatchment. The final rays of Sabbath light fade and the chill of the spring night sets in, as we find ourselves huddling together for warmth. The hours drag by. A few of us nod off for brief moments while others stare blankly at the Roman guards rotating through their posts outside the tomb. Late into the night, we all finally slump into a trouble sleep.
Suddenly, before even a single ray of morning light has broken through, we’re jolted upright by a shuddering earthquake. After blurry-eyed glances at each other, we turn toward the tomb (Matt 28:1-4).
We're amazed at the sight. The stone is rolled away, the soldiers have bolted from the scene in terror, and a radiant angel is seated at the entrance to the tomb. After rubbing our eyes in disbelief, we notice two woman we’d seen before, Mary and Martha. As we edge closer, the angel begins to speak to them:
Do not be afraid, for I know 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. Then go quickly and tell his disciples: 'He has risen from the dead and is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him.' Now I have told you. (Matthew 28:5-7, NKJV)
We stare at each other in disbelief. Have we heard correctly? Risen? As in not dead but alive? Living, breathing, alive? We are stunned, as if we’ve never heard the story before. We saw this Jesus die. We saw his limp body removed from the cross. We saw him laid on the cold, stone slab in the tomb. He was unmistakably lifeless, dead. Now, the angel’s announced that he’s once again living, breathing. Alive! Yes, this Jesus who had revealed such untarnished goodness and radiant love—this Jesus lives! The grave could not hold Him!
We quickly enter the tomb at the angel’s invitation, eager for a glimpse of this risen Jesus. But nothing. It is empty. Still. Where is this living Jesus? His followers hurry to tell the others the exciting, though puzzling, news. We decide to follow along to see where the adventure might takes us. A short time later we find ourselves in a room where Jesus’ baffled, yet excited disciples listen as two breathless men stumble over each other’s words while recounting an astonishing encounter with Jesus earlier that day.
Suddenly Jesus appears. A wave of terror crashes through our hearts. Blood drains from our silent, gasping faces. Unmoved, Jesus stands amidst this sea of terror and, raising gentle, still-pierced hands, begins to speak.
Peace be with you. ... Why are you troubled, and why do doubts rise in your minds? Look at my hands and my feet. It is I! Touch me and see; a ghost does not have flesh and bones, as you see I have. ...
This is what I told you while I was still with you: Everything must be fulfilled that is written about me in the Law of Moses, the Prophets, and the Psalms.
Then He opened their minds so they could understand the Scriptures. He told them, This is what is written: The Messiah will suffer and rise from the dead on the third day, and repentance for the forgiveness of sins will be preached in his name to all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things. I will send you what my Father has promised, but stay in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high. (Luke 24:36-39, NIV)
We listen intently, pondering his words, as he traces the brilliant prophetic thread woven through the events of the last week. We begin to see how the Old Testament writings pointed to his life, death, and resurrection. We begin to see how through him, forgiveness of sins is realized, and God has reconciled the world to himself. Our hearts leap for joy as we see God’s heart more clearly. For ages he had reiterated his promise to do all of this for our broken human family. Now he has done it. In that moment, we grasp a profound truth: Jesus has paved the way for each of us to live beyond the grave. Death is not the end for Jesus' followers.
I am the Resurrection and the Life. Whoever believes in (adheres to, trusts in, relies on) Me [as Savior] will live even if he dies. (John 11:25 AMP)
Deep within our hearts joy flutters, as we soak in the assurance that, through him, eternity—future is bright with hope. Through him, we will live forever.
As our little group continues pondering all that’s happened, someone wonders aloud, “Jesus told his followers to go and call everyone to repentance, but what does that actually mean?”
One of Jesus’ followers, who’s standing nearby, steps into the conversation to explain. “Repentance is a willingness to turn away from our self-centered living. Notice these lines from Isaiah: