A Preposterous Tale of a Boy, a Claim and an Empty Tomb

The story sounds so completely preposterous. 

A boy grows up like any other boy.  Only this boy would teach in the synagogues, and with such authority the priests would be seized with jealousy.  They would obsess over plotting to kill Him.

The boy grows up into adolescence like any other young man.  Only He would not look for a wife, but instead devote Himself to carpentry and to prayer.

The adolescent grows up like any other man, only He changes water to wine.

And He claims to be the Son of God.  The I Am.

Twelve men would leave their families and their lives in an instant because He called them.

It doesn’t make sense. 

In an ordinary place among ordinary people, a Man walks among them.  A Man who, on the outset, would seem ordinary, too.  But He isn’t.

He heals the blind, He touches the leper, He raises the dead.

In a time when women are property, He defends them.

In a place where there is no food, He feeds multitudes with a boy’s lunch.

How can that be?

To some religious leaders He boldly states, “The Son of Man is also Lord of the Sabbath.” Luke 6:5

Time and time again He shows His power, His authority.

Except one night when soldiers have come to take Him.  Still, His authority overwhelms them and they fall helpless to the ground.  He gives them strength again and as His disciples look on, they stand to their feet and seize Him.  A soldier loses an ear in the melee and He heals him.  

Why?  Why doesn’t He run while He can?

He stands before men in four separate mock trials.

He is sentenced to die in the place of a murderer who is set free.

He is beaten beyond recognition as a man.

But some begin to recognize Him as more than a man.

He is nailed to a cross to die among thieves, and promises one of them who asks that he will have a place with Him in Paradise that day.

How can He make that promise?

“But even the rulers with them sneered, saying, ‘He saved others; let Him save Himself if He is the Christ, the chosen of God.’” Luke 23:35

Why didn’t He?

He calls to His Father in heaven, asking Him to forgive all who have sinned against Him.

He dies and is buried in a tomb with armed guards standing watch.

The disciples scatter. Judas is dead. Peter hides in his shame. Hope is lost.  A man is dead.

Was it all too good to be true? Were His claims preposterous? Were His promises empty?

Three years had come and gone like a dream and now they were awake.  It’s over.  The Sabbath comes and goes.

And it’s morning on the third day.

Some disciples journey to the tomb. Some take spices for burial.

Photo by Ferrell Jenkins

But the stone is already rolled away and  He’s gone.

How?  Where were the soldiers? 

In her grief, Mary Magdalene begs a man she supposes to be the gardener, “Sir, if You have carried Him away, tell me where You have laid Him, and I will take Him away.” John 20:15

If only she could have one more moment with Him.

The Man calls her name.

“Mary!”

That voice, she knows that voice!

“Teacher!”

And she clings to Him.

She clings to Him Who is hope, to Him Who is the resurrection and the life, to Him Who is the Lord of the Sabbath, the Lord of the universe, the King of heaven.

It was all true!  It sounded preposterous, ludicrous, absurd. A boy born to a virgin who claimed to be God and came to die for the sins of the world?  To human ears, human reasoning, it seemed insane.

It was beyond their comprehension.

It’s a story so elaborate, so perfectly designed, so extraordinary, so humble and so powerful at the same time that only God could dream it.

From the very beginning, everything He said would happen did.

He’s still dreaming dreams for us.  He’s still making promises that seem completely contrary to anything we can understand.  He’ll heal the marriage, He’ll bring home the child, He’ll provide the need.  He’ll forgive the sin,  He’ll make us new creations.  He’ll love us and be by our side no matter what.

He’ll prepare a home for us and come back to take us there.

And He’ll seal the promise by filling us with His Holy Spirit.

It seems preposterous.  Impossible.  Almost unbelievable.

But the stone is rolled away and He is alive.

 

May the joy of Jesus’ Resurrection fill you this day and every day!

 

 

 

 

We’re Not in Kansas Anymore

Growing up I always felt I was on a different path.  I was drawn to that person who was different, the outcast.  The boy in the wheelchair.  The child whose parent had died.  The girl who stank.

You see, I had these long, skinny arms and legs and was painfully shy. Grade school was a little bumpy. But it made me more compassionate and I found myself wanting to be a friend to the kids no one else wanted to be friends with.

I didn’t know God yet, but He knew me. And He was working something much more important into my life than being popular.  He was teaching me humility and sacrifice.

He was teaching me to do the right thing even when it isn’t easy.

“Dear friends, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that has come on you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice inasmuch as you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed.  If you are insulted because of the name of Christ, you are blessed, for the Spirit of glory and of God rests on you.

So then, those who suffer according to God’s will should commit themselves to their faithful Creator and continue to do good.” 1 Peter 4:12-14a, 19

When we accepted Christ we entered into a different world. A world, seen and unseen, that is hostile toward us.  A world that hates Christ and anyone who follows Him.

For too long we can cling to our worldly idea of how we want our lives to be.  How we think they should be.  We want to be liked. Successful. Free of pain. Maybe drive a nice car.  Live in a comfy house.  We think that if we do the religious do’s and not the religious don’ts we’ll be rewarded with a life free of discomfort. Then when something jumps out at us from the forest we’re surprised.

Nope, we’re not in Kansas anymore.

Following Christ means we will live a life of sacrifice and suffering.  If we’re not suffering for our faith maybe we’re not fully following Jesus.

He didn’t stay on His comfy throne. He came down to us.  He went out and met with those who were suffering.  He walked long days and prayed long nights.  He touched those no one else would touch.  He healed on the Sabbath when He knew He’d be reviled for it.  He spoke the truth when He knew He’d be crucified for it.

When we walk with the Lord, we can expect suffering. A faith that’s lived rightly is a faith that will be opposed. Embrace a life of sacrifice. It’s a faith that does the right thing even when it’s hard. But there’s a rainbow coming.

If the world hated Christ, who are we to think it will love us?  It won’t. The world will mock us, persecute us, ridicule us, make us the outcast, and even more as the Day of the Lord draws nearer.  There may even be times when a brother or sister in Christ will oppose us.  God’s ways are radical and misunderstood.  And some are still living with that comfy ideal.

We have a chance every day to leave our comfy lives behind for something eternally better.  We can choose to serve no matter how inconvenient. We can choose to uncompromisingly live out our godly beliefs no matter how intolerant they may seem to the world. We can choose to speak the truth no matter who disagrees.

We can choose to live radically for Christ because He radically lived, and died, for us.

And when we suffer we can rejoice that we are on a shared mission with Christ.  We have a message to get out and a calling to fulfill, come hell or high water. And our hardships are serving us to prove our faith purer every day.

A day will come when all suffering is done.  We’ll celebrate as the glory of God is revealed and with Him we will rejoice as the victors!

Q4U: How are you able to continue living for Christ through suffering?

Grace and peace,
Dorci