I showed I was brave … willing to follow Jesus even to death (so I originally said). But I wanted the rational, clear vision to the direction and destination. And Jesus had not given it so easily. And then … then … they beat him, they humiliated my rabbi, and then … they killed him. Not just any death, a death that should’ve been swift and merciful. No. They gave him a cursed death, a death on a cross.
All was lost. The others hid themselves in that upper room. Trying to figure out the next step I guess. I wanted to be alone, away from it all. With his death, my dreams died. I brought into question all the teachings of my rabbi. The miracles, how? He may have brought Lazarus back, but there was no coming back from his execution. The compassion he showed on so many, that produced no compassion in return.
My brain couldn’t wrap itself around all of this. How could I let myself become so duped, so irrational? Everything … lost.
Then Peter found me. He babbled on. He said he saw Jesus. He claimed he was alive. Get real Peter. Your in denial.
No, it’s not true. I saw him die. They carried him to the cave. Soldiers guarded the tomb. Your words mean nothing Peter. Unless I see the marks and put my hand into his side, I will never believe you Peter. It’s just not rational.
Days past, others found me and they too were delusional. I tried to talk reason to their rantings, but they wouldn’t budge. I showed up at that upper room. I would talk reason to them. We locked the doors, shared our souls, and …
Wait, what? There were 11 of us. Now there’s 12. My eyes … my eyes looked up and saw … no, it can’t be. He’s dead. I saw him die. My brain couldn’t grasp what was happening.
He stretched out his hands. Scars. He showed his side. “Put your fingers here,” he said. “Place them in my side. Do not disbelieve, but believe.” I lifted my hands with hesitancy. I slowly stretched them and placed my finger tips on those scars. I gently felt the spot where the spear pierced.
The fears. The doubts. The disbelieve. They melted away. The room was dark, but my vision was like the brightness of day. I knew it. I didn’t rationally get it, but I knew it.
He’s alive. Boldly, I proclaimed, “You are my Lord and my God.”
Never again will I doubt. Never again would my skepticism control me. No more fear. I may not understand, but I believe.
The next weeks would be a blur. So many questions raced through my mind … but even if the answers don’t come right away, I believe. Me, brave? Yes. But not in my own reasoning, but in the fact that he is alive and I saw him, I touched him.
Anywhere … anywhere he leads, I will follow. He is my Lord and my God.
So many today try to rationalize everything. Science and logic are the only source of truth. If I can’t figure it out, I doubt it all. I too face that, even as a believer. There are times my mind battles with my heart. But that’s the battle of faith. I want clarity, I want all the pieces to fit together, I want to know. But faith says trust. It’s trusting even if you don’t understand everything.
This Easter, it is a reminder you can trust him. He is alive. The tomb is empty. And if that is true, it changes everything.
Do you believe? Then live according to it … doubter no more.
Daniel Darling has written an intriguing book, ‘The Characters of Easter’ where he looks at the villains, heroes, cowards, and crooks who witnessed history’s biggest miracle.For the next few weeks (pre-Easter) we will look at some of these fascinating characters and maybe get a refreshed look at this weekend that leaves eternal impact.