Easter Sunday: Our Resurrection

Your friend's body is missing. His burial clothes are neatly folded in the empty tomb, but there is no corpse. You run to tell your friends, who are in hiding, petrified with fear that they will be the next ones to hang from a cross. Everyone runs back to the tomb, where two luminous beings in white are sitting where the body had been laid. "Why are you weeping?" they ask.

According to the Gospel of John, the disciples did not yet understand the Scriptures saying that Jesus must rise from the dead on Sunday morning. They thought someone had stolen the body and I imagine they were crushed. One last defeat in a terrible week that had turned everything on its head.

Imagine then, your surprise when one of the men in white softly calls your name. It's Jesus. Alive and well after you saw him suffer and die. He's alive!

Everything changes this day. Easter is not merely a celebration of a miracle from 2,000 years ago. The Resurrection has implications across the universe in all times and all places. For through Jesus' death and return from the grave, we are forgiven from all of the sins which had previously condemned us. All of our debts are settled forever. Jesus died for you, so that everyday, we might be resurrected.

We die and if it wasn't for this sacrifice of love, we would never come back. By all reasonable arguments, we don't deserve it. But God isn't bound by rules. God breaks the rules. Death is no longer a one-way street. We can return, even when we are dead to the world. Through Jesus' crucifixion, he has bought us new life.

The fate of everyone changes today, because of a sacrifice that we can't even begin to wrap our heads around. He died so that we could live. And that changes everything.

Holy Saturday: What Now?

Imagine that you are a disciple the day after Jesus has died and been buried. It is the Sabbath, so you are resting and all you can do is think about the last two days. Your leader has been tried before the high priests and the governor of the Roman occupying force and been sentenced to death. The Son of God is lying in a tomb. It doesn't seem fair. Through the grief and the tears, can you believe that he died as a sacrifice for the sin of the whole world? Can you even begin to believe in a Resurrection?

None of the four Gospels tell us what the disciples did on Saturday, only that "they rested on the Sabbath in obedience to the commandment" (Luke 23:56) . We don't know what they talked about, or if the group was plunged into silence as they contemplated going on without their beloved Teacher.

I imagine I would've been terrified, sad, and angry at the same time. I probably would've been inconsolable. What a traumatic experience it must have been to see your friend die an agonizing death on a cross. The curtain of the temple had torn and an earthquake had rocked Jerusalem. What did it mean? There was no one to interpret the signs and Scriptures for them anymore. It must have felt hopeless.

We don't talk about Holy Saturday very much. We spend a lot of time on the build up to Jesus' arrest and on his death on Friday. Then, we skip straight to Sunday morning, when the three women came to bring spices to the tomb, only to find the stone rolled away and the tomb empty.

But today, Jesus has not risen from the dead. The tomb is sealed and Jesus' body is inside. I often find myself in this Holy Saturday mindset. It doesn't always feel like Jesus came back from the dead, even though I know he did. Sometimes, it feels like he's dead and I'm left to carry on alone. And yet, even when it seems like the story is over, we know that there's more. Death is not the end, but more of a beginning.

Tomorrow, we'll go to the tomb only to discover that someone has rolled away the stone right under the very noses of the Roman guards and the body of the Lord is gone. Logically, the tomb should be sealed, but it won't be, because the grave is no obstacle for God.

Today, it is dark and we must dwell on the sacrifice Jesus willingly made on our behalf. He took our punishment and today, he is dead. We should never forget how important that is. Before he rises, he makes the ultimate sacrifice out of selfless love for us — the people who least deserve it. That, in itself, is incredible.

Today, the tomb is sealed. Tomorrow, everything changes.

Good Friday: A Scared Disciple Flees

"I left everything to follow him. I left my mother and father. I abandoned my way of life and the town where I've spent my entire life. He told to me to follow him and I just did. It was like God himself was parting the heavens and nudging me in Jesus' direction. It just felt right.


"Things were great for a long time. I traveled all over witnessing miracles — Jesus restoring sight to the blind, healing the sick, and feeding five thousand people with just a few fish and a couple loaves of bread. I have seen things I can't even begin to describe.


"But it wasn't all spectacle. There were quiet nights in sleepy towns where we would gather around a small fire and Jesus would talk for hours. Sometimes he would argue with Peter or Judas. Sometimes he would tell us beautiful things about the kingdom that was to come. Sometimes, he would just joke around.


"I really thought he was going to be the Messiah. I thought that final push into Jerusalem would signal the start of the rebellion; the glorious beginning of a new kingdom here on Earth, with Jesus on the throne as our king and the Romans cowering in fear.


"When we came into town on Sunday, it sure felt like we were about to do something great. People flocked to see Jesus come into town. They threw their cloaks and palm branches down before him and praised his name. Then, he threw the hypocrites out of the temple. It seemed like a new era was at hand.


"But I guess we were wrong. I guess it just wasn't in the cards. It's still so fresh that I'm not even sure where we went wrong. Things were going great and then all this talk of death and carrying on the message. Like Jesus was just giving up.


"They arrested him. They beat him senseless, until he could barely stand. I'm sure they must have broken something, they hit him so hard. They stripped off his clothes and divided them among the guards. People screamed and spat. There was nothing any of us could do, except watch in shock as the last three years came crashing down.


"They tortured him on that cross. I could see from where I was standing that he was suffering more than any man had ever suffered before. My God, my God, why have you forsaken us?


"He died. He should have been the new King of Israel, the Messiah, and there he hung, lifeless, from a cross. They killed my friend; my teacher; my God. And I ran. I ran without looking back. I ran until my lungs burned and my knees gave out and I fell into the dusty road. I wept and screamed. He's dead. And we're probably all next. The talk of love, of eternal life, and of fulfilling the Scriptures was all just a beautiful dream and this is reality.


"Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani? My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"

Maundy Thursday: Foot Washing

I have never had my feet washed. Not outside of a shower, that is. And while I had a dim memory about a story involving Jesus and foot washing, I had never given it serious thought before last night.

Last night was Maundy Thursday, the traditional observance of the night before Christ was crucified. In one of his final acts before his arrest, Jesus poured water into a basin and washed his disciples' feet, drying them with the towel wrapped around his waist.

Simon Peter initially resists. "No, you shall never wash my feet," he says in John 13:8. Washing feet was the work of servants. The feet were — and in my case, are — the smelliest, dirtiest part of the body. To wash someone's feet was to acknowledge that they were inferior. But Jesus, as he always does, turns conventional wisdom on its head.

"Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet," Jesus says to his astonished disciples. "I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. Very truly I tell you, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them."

No servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. It must have been powerful, being in that room and hearing these words from the man you had given up your livelihood to follow. Once again, Jesus redefines what it is to be a child of God. Like the disciples, we are called to wash one another's feet — to be humble.


A hush fell over the sanctuary as warm water was poured from a pitcher into a large bowl last night. After a moment of hesitation, we all started to remove our shoes. I slipped off my sneakers and socks and rolled my blue jeans up above my calves. Ambient music filled the space like some ethereal orchestra. One by one, people went up to have their feet washed and then to wash the next person's feet.


I remember that I winced for a moment when the water first hit my feet. It was uncomfortable at first, having someone touching my feet and lightly rubbing away the dirt my soul had tracked in. But then, the meaning hit me. I had to submit and be cleansed. I had to be truly clean before my fellow travelers and before my God. 

When I stepped up, smiled at Kristi (who had kindly washed my feet) and took the towel from her, I felt clean. Not without blemish, but certainly more spiritually presentable than I've been in a long time. I knelt and waited for the next person to come, so that I could wash their feet.


As someone who is often prideful to the point of arrogance, kneeling there before the bowl of water — washing Jess' feet in near silence — I saw a glimpse of the man I am called to be. I felt humbled and privileged to be able to offer such a simple, yet profound gesture of humility. The Spirit was in that space with us, surrounding us and penetrating us, inhabiting the living water we were washing in.


In the coming days, as I wait for the good news of the Resurrection, I'm going to reflect on this experience and what it means for me and my path. In his liturgy for Maundy Thursday, Shane Claiborne offers this closing prayer:


Lord Jesus Christ, you knelt to wash from our feet the dirt out of which you made us. Teach us to humbly serve one another so that the world may know we are your disciples. Amen.