In this week leading up to Resurrection Sunday, I am remembering…
On Sunday I sang Behold the Lamb (A Communion Hymn), a beautiful song by modern hymn writers Keith and Kristyn Getty and Stuart Townend.
That night as a congregation we participated in the Lord’s Supper—
And as they were eating, Jesus took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to the disciples and said, Take, eat; this is My body. Then He took the cup, and gave thanks, and gave it to them, saying, Drink from it, all of you. For this is My blood of the new covenant, which is shed for many for the remission of sins. – Matthew 26:26-28
Two simple, yet deeply impactful events, to keep me remembering Him…
Holding me in a pattern of realizing how the fulcrum of eternity hinges on a space of a few days, beginning at the table, moving to the cross, culminating on one unforgettable early morning centuries ago,
Bringing His sacrifice into focus, at a time when necessary but temporal responsibilities and obligations vie for my attention.
I have only so many hours in these few days left, before the day we purpose to Celebrate…
Making time for reflecting, for remembering, for rejoicing in what Jesus Christ accomplished at that pivotal point in human history…
Where all before looks ahead, and all to come after looks back, to the Day on which all of Christianity rests—
This one act in the eternal story of Redemption, giving credibility to Salvation, to a brief thirty-three-year sojourn, as One Divine discarded celestial glory, and clothed Himself with mortality, accepting fleshly limitations, weaknesses, encumbrances, vulnerability…
Being perfectly God,
Becoming wholly Man,
Identifying with created beings of His own design,
Overcoming all that threatens to destroy those He loves, those He lived and died for.
Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but is risen, just as He said. – Matthew 28 & Luke 24
In the stillness of the darkness, giving way to sunrise, before the first day dawned… Surrounded by garden flora, vegetation pulsating with nature’s energy in living cells,
Enveloped by creation’s silent proclamation of life triumphant,
The angel asked the obvious, for those with eyes to see beyond what human minds can comprehend—
Why would you look for Him here, in a place reserved for the dead? When He knew all along He would live again, and came to give that same life to all who would believe?
Around the tombs vegetation lived, grew, entwined their vines and branches upward, outward, reaching toward the sun.
No amount of death or decay could stop the continual flow of life…
where no sizeable, impenetrable granite slab,
no boulder wedged immoveable,
no official governmental seal,
could lock in the source of all life, known as the Eternal One.
And once the final Sacrifice had been given,
willingly laid down,
and declared sufficient,
Darkness no longer gripped the earth in despondency, in the pain of expectations dashed, of hopes lost.
Because Jesus conquered death, thwarting any fallout related to sin’s pathetic and numerous offspring.
So, during this week I’m choosing to remember what He did,
And remembering to whisper words of thanks to the One Who lives again—the One called Savior.
(Photo of empty tomb stained glass courtesy of Cadetgray with the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported License.)