What a Weekend! What a Savior!

Earlier this week, Danny Gregg, youth minister of Donelson Church of Christ, here in Nashville, spoke in our school devotional.  As he tried to help the students wrap their minds around the sudden and tragic death of a class mate, he spoke of God's victory over death.  He spoke of Jesus being raised to a new life.  He spoke of Heaven, a place where death's sting will never again be felt.  He spoke of resurrection moments. His words have remained in my heart this week, and I've seen so many of those little glimmers of hope and healing.  Those are not coincidences.  Those are God's works.

As I enjoyed my new routine of daily walks this morning, I was amazed by the beauty of spring around me.  Every tree is bursting with new life.  Roses are blooming in brilliant colors of reds,  yellows and pinks.  Tulips are lifting their gorgeous little heads to a vibrant blue and cloudless sky.  The birds are chirping and readying for new life in their nests.  Lawns are being mowed, and shrubbery is being mulched.  It's Easter weekend, and there is a sense of happiness in the air.

I've always loved Easter.  I remember it being such a special time when my three children were younger.  My mother and I always "stuffed" hundreds of plastic eggs for our family's annual Easter Egg Hunt.  (Yes, they were spoiled!  Three children did not need hundreds of eggs!)  The last egg hunt we had was in 2006, just a few months before she went to be with the Lord.  We decided it would probably be the last one we would have when Colton and Conner physically fought over the $25 golden egg!  I almost never got the grass stain out of their Easter pants!

But Easter is not all about bunnies and baskets.  It's about a Savior, and the Lord put these thoughts on my heart this morning.

As we enjoy this Good Friday, I am reminded of a fateful Friday two thousand years ago.  A day much like any other day in the lives of most people.  A day when babies were born.  A day when an elderly woman drew her last breath.  A day when the sun rose just as any other day.  But this day was different.  This would be a Friday when men in high places, who had plotted against our Lord, would carry out those sinister actions.    This would be a day when a beloved friend would do the unthinkable for a bag of silver coins.  This would be a day when a mother's heart would be broken as she saw her son hung on a cross.  This would be a day when Satan would feel like he had won. 

On that Friday, my Lord; your Lord; God's son, would make a conscious decision to be beaten and shamed.  Scorned and spat upon.  Mocked and ridiculed.  He had asked God to take this dark cup away from him, but he obediently fulfilled the will of His Father.  He would endure this because of His love for people.  His friends.  His family.  His followers.  Even those who hated him.  Even those who had never seen him.  Even those who had never been born.  Even me.  Even you.

On that Friday, my Lord, your Lord, God's son, would have nails driven through his body.  He would be raised on a cruel cross at Golgotha between two criminals.  He would be offered vinegar to drink when he asked for water.  He would cry out in agony.  He would promise paradise for eternity to one of those criminals hanging beside him.  He would ask his loyal friend to take care of  his mother, Mary.  Hateful eyes would gawk at His writhing body.  Hateful hearts would turn stone cold as they witnessed this treachery.  Hateful souls would be happy when this "Jesus, King of the Jews" was dead.

On that Friday, my Lord; your Lord; God's son, could have called ten thousand angels to come to his rescue.  He could have called a legion of hosts to rein down vengeance on the hateful mob.  He could have taken Himself down off of that cross.  But He didn't.  His love for me won out over the hatred of that day. His love for you was more than the hateful actions of the mob.  His love for His Father trumped it all.  God had asked Jesus to complete this task, and that was enough.

On that Friday, my Lord; your Lord; God's son, would cry out one final time before it was finished.  His side would be pierced, and blood and water would freely flow from it.  Darkness would cover the land as His Father showed His own power.  The veil of the temple would be ripped in two, as evidence that truly Jesus was the Son of God.

On that Friday, my Lord; your Lord; God's son, died.  His lifeless body would be taken down from that wooden cross.  It would be lovingly washed and prepared for burial.  Tears would flow by all that loved him.  But tears would not bring him back.  Jesus was dead.  That torn and tattered body would be placed in a borrowed tomb.  Friends would leave that place in a state of shock  It would be a Friday they would never forget.

I can only imagine the hurt.  The loss.  The feelings of not knowing what to do.  Jesus, the Savior, was dead.

This was real.

But on Sunday, my Lord, your Lord; God's son, would burst forth from that grave.  That torn and tattered body would be filled with new life and new hope.  Death would be conquered.  Christ's resurrection would take away the pain of death.  The pain of separation.  The pain of hopelessness.

On Sunday, my Lord; your Lord; God's son, would show His power, and His love for me, and for you.  The sting of death was lessened.  Separation might be temporary, but salvation would be for eternity.  This earthly life would pass, and with it would come physical death.  But spiritual life everlasting was promised because Jesus came out of that grave on Sunday!  Death had no victory!   

On Sunday, the plan of those men in high places had failed.  The betrayal for a bag of silver had been of no use.  On Sunday, a mother's heart would be healed.  On Sunday, Satan would be defeated. On Sunday, I was given a promise of eternal life.  On Sunday, you were given that same promise.

What a gift!  What a weekend!  What a SAVIOR!