When Sunday Comes
While it is still dark, Mary Magdalene rises from her sleep. Its time to visit the tomb. She fully expects to continue her mourning, grieving in the quiet stillness. No crowds. No Romans. None of the terror that surrounded her hours ago.
Arriving at the tomb, the stone is rolled away. Here the gospel accounts share differing details, but what becomes clear is that the terror is not over for a moment!
The body is gone! Did someone move it? Another earthquake shakes the ground. Who are these frightening angels? Guards meant to ensure no one steals the body are rendered helpless. What is going on?!
"He has risen. He is not here."
Jesus is on the move. Death could not contain him. State violence could not stop him. Humiliation could not distract him. The tomb could not hold him. Hell could not imprison him. Guards could not control him. The cross could not restrict him. The human body could not limit him. Jesus is alive!
Sunday has come. Hope is restored. The Good News of the risen Christ is carried by women to the disciples. The story isnt over!
For the next 40 days Jesus makes appearances. Showing up. Teaching. Revealing. Communing. It is beautiful and sweet and miraculous. Jesus is also preparing. Preparing them for his ascension. His disciples will stay in the world. But they wont be alone. A Comforter is coming. A Comforter will be needed.
A Comforter will be needed because Jesus crushed violence but this has yet to be fully realized in the world. A Comforter will be needed because death has been conquered but we still feel its pain. A Comforter will be needed because the state still tramples across people for power. A Comforter will be needed because the world is still awful. Jesus has conquered it all, but we wait for our Sunday.
For when Sunday comes our troubles will be over.
I know its hard to look at the world and believe in Sunday. Its hard to be witness to the destruction and devastation, the injustice and pain, the hatred and evil. At every turn the world makes a mockery of our hope. Hitting us in the gut, it demands to know, "where is your hope now?"
Our hope is no longer in a tomb. Our hope is not dead. Our Hope is on the move. He is risen! And Sunday will come again. May our hearts rejoice in this! May we lay down the fear and doubts, allowing ourselves to encounter Hope again.
And Happy Easter!