What with all the daily distractions and frustrations of the past few weeks, I’ve caught myself wondering if I’d “catch” the Easter spirit.
Of course, life is a lame excuse for not stopping to reflect on the sacrifice of Jesus Christ — so that we can actually live for something far greater than the troubles of this Earth.
Since I was a child, every time I think of the days leading up to Jesus’ death, I think of dust. Dirty, dry, dust. Heat. Sweat-soaked sandals and vestments. A heavy, splinter-laden cross. Stinging scratches and seeping whip marks.
Tonight, I stumbled across a Google Earth rendition of what Christ’s last few days might resemble. Of course, I’ve seen diagrams before. But this medium helps capture the terrain and maybe even the dust and the heat.
Point Q begins with “Near dawn on Sunday morning…”
Already, my mind feels cleaner — with the morning dew beneath my feet and the aroma of sweet flowers nearby. I can see the discovery — the open tomb, the angels, and the face of Jesus Christ.
I think to myself, “How could they have been so afraid, so disbelieving when they found Jesus alive?”
Then I remember. The past several weeks, I’ve thought of little else but dust, sweat-soaked clothes, dirty feet, and the pain of open, stinging wounds. I haven’t stopped to consider Jesus’ commitment, His suffering, His sacrifice. All so that I have a choice — to live for an imperfect and short-term now, or to die to myself so that I can spend eternity with fresh, clean, aromatic, and sweet surroundings.
Perfection awaits those of us who choose to believe in the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. I am amazed, stunned, and the realization of such hope leaves me with a faint feeling of disbelief. Just like those who found that empty tomb.