My sisters and I have an ongoing group text thread. Last evening, somewhere in the midst of ultrasound photos of our newest great niece or nephew (come on Noelle, I can keep a secret!), a pictorial documentation of Mary’s family’s egg coloring activities and a discussion of what could be picked up at a local farm stand, came a link to watch and participate in a Good Friday online communion.
My sister Carry and niece Ella had participated (it was their pastor) with club crackers and apple juice. I clicked the link and prepared my bit of bread and…. hmmm, tea, coffee, or lime sparkling water? I landed on the latter, completely unprepared for just how special this totally unconventional Lord’s Supper would be.
Centuries ago Jesus gave His life for mine. I know the story; I’ve heard it my whole life. And I believe it. Wholeheartedly! But somehow sitting alone on the sofa in my hometown, sipping lime sparkling water, the enormity of that sacrifice became real to me as it hadn’t in a while. I was moved to sudden and unexpected tears.
Somewhere in the middle of the night after maybe my second trip “down the hall” (if you aren’t middle-aged yet, just wait!), I was lying awake thinking about Good Friday and how strange things are this year, when I was strongly impressed by something.
We are in the waiting…
When Jesus died on the cross for us, he wasn’t immediately resurrected. There is an old hymn which says “Low, in the grave he lay, Jesus my Savior. Waiting the coming day…” Tomorrow we celebrate the day he walked out of the tomb, but today… we are in the waiting.
Last month when I realized we would be working remotely for at least a couple of weeks, I decided to pack up my pup and spend that time in my hometown. I have a small house there, so I would have a quiet place to work and be within a few minutes’ drive of most of my family. None of us knew at that time that two weeks would turn into four and then, who knows…
We are in the waiting.
Grief and uncertainty seemed to outpace faith in the hours that followed the crucifixion. Sound familiar?
Thousands of people are sick and dying and we are washing our hands raw and frantically searching our screens for any glimmer of good news.
It is Saturday and we are in the waiting.
But tomorrow… tomorrow is Sunday, and on Sunday everything changes.
On Sunday there is a shift in the atmosphere.
On Sunday HOPE springs to LIFE!
“As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man dressed in a white robe sitting on the right side, and they were alarmed. ‘Don’t be alarmed,’ he said. ‘You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified. He has risen! He is not here. See the place where they laid him.'” Mark 16:5-6