What would a world be like without Jesus?
2020-04-11
Easter is different this year. The heaviness of our current circumstances fits the time to reflect on what Easter is commemorating. Our souls are already grieving the loss of life as we knew it…and there is anticipatory grief for what’s to come as lives are lost and financial security for many is stripped from beneath their feet as a result of this devastating virus. It has happened so suddenly. Yet we are rallying and supporting one another, and we will get through this together.
But this slower pace of life has gifted me extra time to look back at the cross and contemplate that first “Good Friday”.
Through the reading of scripture translated into my native tongue, I walked with Jesus from that last Passover meal with his closest friends to the Garden where he prayed in agonized anticipation of what was to come. Following him in his apprehension by authorities, I listened to his interactions with Jewish and Roman leaders. I heard the frenzied mob shouting, “Crucify him!” and paused to watch the soldiers beat Jesus and spit on him. I felt the heartbreak of Peter as he realized he had denied knowing his Lord. Slowing my mental steps, I went with Jesus from Pilate’s presence to the foot of the cross. I tried to picture myself among the crowd at the roadside as this man who had healed and shown compassion to so many, staggered underneath the weight of that heavy wooden cross on his torn-up back as he walked toward the spot on Golgotha. I wondered if Jesus looked into the eyes of those soldiers assigned to hammer the nails into his hands and his feet. What must they have seen?
I watched them lift Jesus with his arms spread wide, and heard the thud as the cross dropped into the prepared hole. I looked around at the various groups of people in the scene, wondering what they were thinking. The taunts and the jeers drowned out the wails of those who loved him. I heard his cry, “Father, forgive them. They don’t know what they are doing.” I waited in the three dark hours, not knowing what was happening. Was this the end of the world? When had darkness ever covered us in the afternoon? I gasped when I heard his voice reverberate in the darkness – “It is finished!” Terrified, I felt the strongest earthquake.
See the anguish of his closest friends and family as they helplessly watch the horror? It isn’t hard to imagine.
I felt their disbelief when they realized Jesus wasn’t going to perform one of his miracles to free himself from the angry mob and the nails on the cross. Where was his power now? How could he let this happen?
How great their grief must have been when they accepted that he was gone.
I wonder about those who were on the precipice of believing that he truly was the Son of God, but then saw him hanging there lifeless, stripped of all dignity.
Their greatest hope – dead.
How could he be who he said he was, and then die at the hands of men?
Gentle hands pried the nails loose from the wood, lowering his abused body down. Tears must have fallen as Joseph and Nicodemus helped wrap up their Lord and they made the solemn procession carrying Jesus’ body to that new tomb. Jesus’ own mother and his dearest friends. Together in their darkest grief. In their sorrow, they had to hurry through the Jewish burial rituals, as the sun was beginning to set and Sabbath was about to begin. I wonder if it brought Mary some comfort to know that her beloved son would rest in that new tomb in a beautiful garden area?
As the crowds dispersed, and Jesus’ friends left for a place to rest and observe the Sabbath, the night must have been heavy with heartbreak. They couldn’t make sense of it.
What would a world be like without Jesus?
A world where death wins and darkness envelops?
Where is the light? What happened to hope? Where is the purpose? What is the meaning? Who would teach how to love well…how to serve others?
Who can find peace in a world without Jesus?
When the sorrows of death overwhelm us, where can we go? Who can heal the deepest soul wounds? Who can redeem and restore what has been broken, stolen from the innocent? Who can take away the shame and give dignity?
What would laughter look like? Could there be joy without the one who created delight? Jesus’ friends saw the winds and the sea respond in obedience to the voice of Jesus and felt the earth shake when he breathed his last breath. How would creation react in a world without Jesus?
I’m thankful that the story didn’t stop when Jesus’ body was laid in that grave. We have the privilege of being able to look back, knowing what happened next. But for once I am not going to hurry to the good news of Sunday. I’m going to pause with the heartbroken on that historic Easter Sabbath.
On that Saturday, the world didn’t know.
All they knew for sure was that Jesus of Nazareth was dead.
And what would the world be like without him?