Sunday, April 12, 2009

Sunrise

He had told them exactly what would happen.

You will betray me.

You will deny me.

The rooster will crow.

In three days, this will all be over.

Everything will be alright, I love you. In three days, just three days, we will be together again.

-

Then the sky turned black and the veil ripped and so did His body.

One betrayed.

One denied.

The rooster crowed.

And they took His body down from its hanging place, and they buried Him.

-

And much like we do, when we've lost a friend, a loved one, they mourned.

They probably gathered together. Couldn't eat much. Didn't sleep much. They were probably angry; at the system, at the Romans, at Pilate.

Their world seemed dark without Him. They had dropped everything. Forgotten everything to follow Him. To be with Him. And now He was gone. Their worlds were shattered. Had everything been in vain?

In their grief, they forgot His promise.

-

But three days later, the sun would rise.

The rock would roll away.

The angels would be stationed... waiting. Laughing, I think, with joy. Maybe they waited in heaven to hear from the Lord, anticipated the call to tell Yahweh's precious ones a secret. I doubt after all these years the angels had gotten tired of terrifying people; of bringing huge news that no one believed at first...

-

"Why are you looking for the living among the dead?"

The women would race home. Leaving their spices and oils at the graveside.

And no one would believe them either.

Except for Peter.

Who would race to the grave. To see for himself.

Jesus had been right. Peter had denied him three times.

Jesus had been right. Judas had betrayed him.

The rooster had crowed, his body had been broken.

-

Three days ago, Peter had watched his best friend die the death of a criminal.

Today was the third day.

-

Peter probably counted the days on his fingers.

Counted the hours. The times the sun had set and risen.

Yes, three days.

-

And there He was.

Holes in His hands. Holes in His feet.

He was hungry.

-

The Rabbi was the Messiah.

Christ was a man with carpenter's hands.

-

With the sun that morning, hope rose.

It was hope, which swelled from inside the grave.

Overwhelming it.

Just as Yahweh's love had overwhelmed the holiest of places.

-

Death was not strong enough to contain.

-

Peter had, for three days, known a world without his Lord.

-

And he would spend the rest of his life fervently pursuing the kingdom.

Compelled by the hope, which rose with the sun.

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