The God We Thought We Buried

Sunday.

The day we sat vigil for. The sunrise we weren't sure would come. The still, heavy fog of early morning. Defeated and mourning, we climb the hill to the tomb; the place we buried God.

Saturday was long... painful. Shabbat passed at an agonizing pace. We waited, oils in hand. We didn't sleep. We let the night drag on. And, at the very first glimmer of sunlight, we trudged towards the grave of our hope. We stumbled onto a confusing scene; stone rolled away, linens lying empty. God isn't where we left him. God isn't in the dark cold. God is missing.

Isn't it just like us to not recognize him when he speaks? We don't find him where we think he should be - limited and broken. He's not what we thought he would be, and that leaves us confused and foggy. He's speaking, we're answering and we still don't get it.

But then we do. Light dawns and the truth seeps into our tired, burdened hearts. The God of the unimaginable. The God of the impossible. The God of resurrection. And just like that, Saturday slips away, Friday becomes ancient. Sunday has arrived. The earth breaks open. Creation cries out. Jesus. Yeshua. The man we couldn't label. The God we couldn't see.

Today, friends, let your hearts be weighted with joy. Let your souls rejoice. The God you thought you buried is bursting with life. The King you couldn't defend has rescued you. The man you sought to follow has come back for you. You are not abandoned. You are not rejected. You are not forgotten.

Sunday has come for you. Race to the tomb and find it empty. Touch the darkness and find it void. Jesus is in the light, bearing the marks of our brokenness.

Feast with your family. Hunt eggs with your kids. Wear your sweetest, brightest clothes. Celebrate without guilt or fear.

More than that, soak in the great, glorious hope that could not be crushed. Lean in.

Happy Sunday, friends.

*March 2013