Holy Saturday: Life from Death

There was nothing especially uncommon about that week in Jerusalem. Jesus was not the first messiah to appear and gather followers. Jesus was not the first man to threaten the establishment of the Temple. Jesus was not the first rabble-rouser to be arrested by the Roman occupying force. Jesus was not the first man to be crucified, nor was he the last. Jesus was not the first person to die.

But sometime Saturday night, something extraordinary occurs.

Behind the heavy stone sealing the tomb, the Spirit is at work. When morning comes, the body of Jesus will be gone and his burial shroud neatly folded. What exactly occurs in the dark of the borrowed tomb we may never know or comprehend, but the result changes everything.

Death — once the end of everything — is no longer a barrier.
Death is vanquished.
Death is meaningless.

During the night, a spiritual calculus is performed. A single sacrifice pays for the accumulated sin of all humanity for all time and the slate is wiped clean. As Paul would later write to the Romans, "...We have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life."

Jesus overcomes the grave and death itself to free us from sin. I don't know how that math works. I don't know how the sacrifice of one man can liberate an entire species, but I am humbled to think that my soul is worth dying for. The mystery of that depth of love will forever captivate me with its beauty.

Risky Business

"Cheap grace is the grace we bestow upon ourselves. Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, Communion without confession...Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate...When Christ calls someone, he bids them come and die." - Dietrich Bonhoeffer

We like things to be easy. We don't want to have to think or commit too much to anything. We want to get the most reward for the least amount of effort. We expect it from our technology, our education, and from our God.

"I went to church and I even put money in the offering, so we're cool, right, God?"We did the minimum and we think that should be good enough. Yes, you're still saved through grace; grace that is a free gift. But that grace is hollow, because you didn't put yourself on the line for it.

For years, our experience of church has been safe. Sit, stand, sing, bread, wine, Jesus loves you. Being a follower of Jesus is mainstream and acceptable. In most cases, we don't risk anything by being a Christian. We proclaim a cotton candy gospel (that is, mostly sugar and air) and nobody gets stoned to death, crucified, or drawn and quartered. Do you see what I'm getting at? I'm not saying you have to defy the Roman Empire to validate your faith, but if you're not willing to stand up for it, what is it really worth? What are we worth if we let intolerance and injustice rule over us without a fight?

Dietrich Bonhoeffer was a Lutheran pastor living in Germany in the 1930s and '40s. When many clergy stood by while Hitler spouted hate and killed millions in concentration camps, Bonhoeffer realized that he could not stand by and let this happen. He started an underground seminary, smuggled people out of areas under Nazi control, and eventually became involved in a plot to assassinate Hitler. When the attempt failed, Bonhoeffer was arrested and executed, joining a long line of martyrs.

Grace is not cheap. It is costly. Jesus paid for it with his life and many of those who followed him have paid the same price. I don't know how we face that risk today, but I know that we shouldn't take this precious gift for granted. You don't have to earn it, but I think that we have a responsibility to use it. What is point of forgiveness if we keep it all to ourselves? We have to care for the less fortunate, stand with the broken and oppressed, and fight tooth and nail for a better world. Only when we risk our reputation, our relationship, and maybe our lives can we truly call ourselves disciples of Christ. At least, that's how I see it.

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.