It's Sunday

Well, technically, it's Monday, but bear with me...

Our pastor played this video yesterday before his Easter message. And it hit me, as I watched the images before my eyes, that it wasn't always Sunday. There was a Friday too. And it must have been the longest weekend of the disciples' lives. Their Lord, crucified and buried. Where was their hope? Where was their joy? Where was the promised Messiah? The Lamb of God to take away the sins of the world?

I've been trying to put myself in the place of the disciples that Friday. Would I have trusted His Message? Remembered His words concerning His glorious return? And as much as I want to claim, as Peter did, that I would never disown my Lord, a part of me fears that I too would have run away from Christ that night in the garden. And the incredible part of that is, even when his closest friends, his very brothers, fell away, Christ still loved them and took their sins upon Himself. Not only their sins, but mine also.

And then, praise God, came Sunday. The Resurrection. Hope. Rejoicing. A promise fulfilled. The shout of a thousand voices singing

Christ is risen from the dead
We are one with him again
Come awake, come awake!
Come and rise up from the grave

Oh death! Where is your sting?
Oh hell! Where is your victory?
Oh Church! Come stand in the light!
The glory of God has defeated the night!

Christ is risen from the dead
Trampling over death by death
Come awake, come awake!
Come and rise up from the grave
Christ is risen from the dead
We are one with him again
Come awake, come awake!
Come and rise up from the grave

Rise up from the grave...

(Matt Maher)

It was Friday, but Sunday has come, and its promise remains and rings true for every man and woman and child. There are those who only know Friday...and they will never know otherwise unless someone tells them about Sunday.