This Year's Thoughts on Easter (and hope)

As I write this, it isn't Easter. In fact, it's nearly a month before Easter. But that's where my head has been at lately...

Last week, I began reading a book entitled "The Robe" by Lloyd C. Douglas. This novel follows the point of view of a Roman soldier named Marcellus. As part of the Roman empire, he was sent to help keep peace in Jerusalem over the Passover week. While doing this, he observes a young man sentenced to crucifixion by Pontius Pilate - yep. you guessed it...that man was Jesus. But it didn't stop there. Marcellus was actually commanded to oversee this crucifixion. While he realizes that this is not an ideal situation, as he believes this man is innocent, he does what he is commanded to do. Although he knew none of the history behind who this Jesus character was, he soon suffers severe emotional repercussions that he cannot explain. With the knowledge that there is more to the story than what he was aware of, he sets out to learn more about who Jesus was and why He mattered.

While reading this book, I have been in awe by the new perspective that it brings - seeing the Messiah explained through not only the eyes of those who knew Him best, but also seeing Him through the eyes of one who didn't know of Him at all. 

I understand more than ever that at the time, Jesus' teachings were revolutionary; unheard of. I understand more than ever that He is a God of extreme love, and not just in His death and resurrection, but in His life as well.

"The higher the price you have to pay, the more you will cherish what you get."

Tonight, I found myself crying in the shower after reading a few chapters from this book. I realize this makes me sound like a very sad, unstable individual, but I really didn't know why I was crying. It didn't make any sense to me; I don't have a reason to cry. The King is Risen! 

Upon closer reflection, I realize that I have been given an extraordinary comfort by being alive during this timeframe. While at times, Jesus might not feel as "alive" to me as He did to those who got to meet Him face-to-face, or converse with Him, or be healed by Him, I have the comfort of knowing that He is alive and that He reigns. In trying to learn from the testimonies of those who were followers of Jesus back then, I realize that they didn't have that luxury. Many of these people had no hope until He arrived. And then, before they knew it, He was gone. I can feel their hopelessness. I can feel their despair. To the point that I am brought to tears. The man who was sent to save them, who offered them a peace that that they had never known; a peace that surpassed understanding, was dead. 

Would their lives go back to normal? Would the "legacy" of Jesus' teachings be enough to change things in a lasting way? Was He truly the Son of God? All questions that I believe they likely asked themselves (or at least the questions I would have asked in their position). 

Even after He was risen, it was a waiting game. The people who loved Him didn't know right away - communication and technology didn't allow for #HeisRisen to spread the word (why was no one thinking about Twitter back then?!) I can imagine the relief and joy that were felt when they finally heard the word, but mostly, I can feel the hope. 

It's the same hope that we have the luxury of having today. We can live fully knowing that He is risen, that His truths are real, and that it's okay for there to be uncertainty in the little moments because the overall certainty outweighs it all.