Paris. Brussels. Orlando. Bangladesh. Baton Rouge. Minneapolis. Dallas. Nice.
Just a few of the locations left desolate by senseless acts of terror or the crippling loss of life within the past seven months. Each of these attacks loom heavily on their nations. All sense of control and security is lost. Peace is robbed of us. Hope has disappeared. Fear is stricken deep into our core. In a world full of terror and darkness, in a time of confusion and chaos, in a culture of ongoing change and uncertainty, fear seems to await us at every turn. The unknown grips us. Perhaps now, more than at any other time in history, we know what it means to truly be afraid. In a world polluted by terrorism and fear it is easy to become discouraged and lose hope entirely. Darkness seems to reign.
As I have scrolled through my Facebook and Instagram feeds, I am overwhelmed by the burden so many feel following each of these occurrences. It seems as if every conversation over coffee with friends or at meals with family shifts to these tragedies. Even as I sit here writing this, incoming reports of yet another shooting are surfacing. Terror and confusion continuously bear down on the Jewel called Joy in an effort to extinguish her light. We begin to question Where has God gone?
I am reminded of yet another time this question became prevalent in the lives of a desperate people.
The days following the Crucifixion of Jesus Christ left many wondering whether they had spent the last three years of their lives hoping on a fairy tale. This small town carpenter had taken the world by storm as he traveled across the Palestinian countryside proclaiming a message of hope, freedom, and healing amidst a culture of desolation, captivity, and death. His message was contagious. His presence intoxicating. All who heard him were in awe of the authority with which he spoke, drawing some, deflecting others. The miracles he performed left crowds breathless. The love he gave offered life and identity.Throngs of people placed their hope and trust in him believing that maybe, just maybe, he could restore order to the chaos. But within a day that all came crumbling down.
Terror took over as the One with whom their hopes rested was arrested in the middle of the night and brought to trial. He was bound like a murderer. The man who revived the widow’s son, who restored life to the synagogue leader’s daughter, who rescued Lazarus from death’s gates was being treated like one who intentionally took life, rather than one who restored it.
Screams rang in the streets calling for the innocent blood of Christ. In a cowardly move, the governor sentenced Jesus to be crucified. Once they reached the city's center, the bloodshed truly began. Jesus was stripped of his clothing and chained to a post. The soldiers, whose faces were distorted with the perverse pleasure they were about to enjoy due to the pain and punishment they were about to inflict, revealed their instrument of torture to the crowd: a tangled up mess of leather strips coated in broken glass, stone, and bone. Without warning a soldier brought the horrifying whip down upon the un-expecting Jesus. The cracking of the whip, the deafening cries of agony, the sound of skin being ripped away, the mocking laughter of the soldiers, the smell of blood and exposed flesh, and the sight of the most loving and compassionate man to ever walk the planet becoming entirely mangled and distorted engraved themselves into the minds of His followers leaving behind a residue of fear and terror.
Finally he reached the Place of the Skull and he fell to the ground, breathless and exhausted. There was no strength left within Him, but the soldier, attempting to move Jesus into the position for crucifixion, kicked him in the stomach causing Him to vomit up blood. Once they had finally thrust Him down upon the cross, they tied his arms to keep Him stable. The flash of sun off the top of the nail, the shadow of the hammer being raised, the horrific ringing of the two clashing together as they pierced Jesus’ hands and feet and the resulting cry struck fear deep into the core of His faithful followers.
As Jesus was lifted into the air, the expectation of everyone reached its peak. Would he fight back in any way? Surely this had to be just a terrible nightmare and the bloodshed would soon come to an end. But He simply remained and took the torture. Instead of lashing out words of hate and anger, He cried out to the Father asking for forgiveness for those torturing and mocking Him.
Even though it was midday, a pitch black darkness came across the land. Fear seemed to be making its final attack. In the most gut wrenching and painful cry yet, Jesus called, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?” or “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” As the sins of all mankind fell upon him, he felt distance from His Father. He could not feel the comfort and peace He once felt. His source of strength had grown silent. He was bearing the shame, pain, agony, guilt, disgust, and sin of us all. The weight was crushing His spirit just as the wounds were crushing His body. He felt forsaken and forgotten as he bore the weight of the world. But still he endured. He did not give up.
As his soul was in torment and extreme agony, the veil in the Temple separating man from God for generations was entirely torn in two from top to bottom. Knowing it was time, he cried out “It is finished!” breathed his last breath, and died. Had fear truly won? Had the Light truly been vanquished by the Darkness? There seemed no hope. All was lost.
Throngs of followers had dwindled down to a faithful three who had endured the torment of the day from start to finish. They watched as the distorted, beloved corpse was brought down from the Crucifix, and then cleansed and prepared for burial. Hearts sinking as a large stone was rolled before the tomb, blocking their view for the first time in three years from the One they had come to love, worship, serve, and trust. As they walked away, leaving his lifeless corpse, the fear entirely set in. There seemed no other option but to fear what was still yet to come.
Just as the crucifixion left the women confused and devastated, the recurring events of this year leave us feeling the same way. We wonder, Where has God gone? Will there ever be peace? A life without Christ is one marked by confusion, sorrow, loneliness, darkness, and fear. A life without Christ is one truly without hope. But thank God that, that fearful Friday was not the end...
Once the Sabbath had reached its conclusion, the women woke up early Sunday morning with the spices and perfumes they had prepared and departed for the tomb. . As they walked in the early morning hours, hearts still heavy from the events the day before, they only wanted to see the One they loved once more and to give him a proper burial, but they wondered how they would even enter the tomb. The stone itself was extremely heavy, not to mention the wax seal that had been placed around the door to keep it shut and the battalion of soldiers assigned to guard the door. As they questioned all these things, the ground beneath them began to tremble. The trembling soon became a violent earthquake. The women fell to the ground due to the magnitude of the quake.
A man dressed in a robe as bright as the sun with an appearance as shocking as lightning stood before the stone of the tomb. You could hear the rattling of armor as the soldiers guarding the tomb shook in fear at the appearance of the angel, stunned they fell to the ground faint and unable to move. The angel then rolled away the massive stone with ease, like a child throwing a pebble. Then he hoisted himself on top of the stone and sat staring at the women, who now stood breathless, terrified, and in awe of what they had just seen. As they stood stunned, the angel began to speak. His voice was powerful like a storm, but calming like a breeze. He said, “Do not be afraid. I know why you are here. You are looking for Jesus who was crucified. But He is not here; He has risen!” (Matthew 28:5-6)
At first they did not move, as they stood trying to process all that had just been said. But then it hit them and they understood. Turning to one another, they exchanged a glance as if to say “Could this be true? He is not dead! He is alive! Oh He is alive!” As they ran back toward town, still processing, they were "afraid,yet filled with joy" (Matthew 28:8).
If what the angel had said was true, if Jesus was really alive, that meant all hope was not lost. The One they had placed their hope in was not defeated by darkness, but had indeed defeated the power of sin and darkness. If Jesus was truly alive, that meant they were alone no longer in this world. Their true companion whom they had grown to love and trust and look to for healing and wisdom and freedom had not been demolished by the terror and fear of three days past. If He was truly alive, his love had not ended. His peace had not ended. His comfort had not ended. It was alive. He was alive!! They could have joy amidst all the uncertainty and the evil that was still present around them because Jesus could truly be alive! They had joy amidst the fear, but there was still fear.
The women had only heard that Jesus was alive. They had not encountered him personally. For them the events of the days before were still ingrained in their minds. This morning encounter had given them joy knowing that perhaps the crucifixion was not the end, but they were still uncertain. What if they reached the rest of the disciples, told them all that happened, and Jesus never came? What if this was all just a dream and a mental escape from the terror they experienced days before? Could this all be too good to be true?
Perhaps you find yourself in the same position as these women, questioning the validity of this grave-robbing God. Would someone truly endure the pain for the sake of those inflicting it? Could someone truly love you enough to give Himself up for you and suffer the punishment that you were supposed to suffer? Is it possible that you can truly be free from the bondage of sin and disease and death?
Is it possible to have victory over addiction? Is it really possible for that missing family member to come back home? Is it possible for your loved ones who are battling severe illnesses to find healing? Is there someone who genuinely, truly loves you and promises never to leave you even though everyone else has turned their backs on you and abandoned you? Is it really true that you are not alone?
Can there be joy amidst the fear of this fallen world? Can there ever be certainty in a confused and perverted world? Can there ever be an end to the reign of terror?
You can hear the news of the Resurrected Jesus told, but the questions and the doubts will remain until you encounter Him for yourself.
As the women ran back to the city, their minds were flooded with emotions and questions, with confusion and expectation, with uncertainty and excitement, with fear and with joy at all they had seen and now heard. Their feet were racing almost as rapidly as their minds. But they were stopped in their tracks, as they beheld the most beautiful and wonderful sight they had seen in their entire lives.
There in front of them, breathing, staring back at them with the eyes of love they had always known, arms stretched wide, was Jesus. He was alive!! As he greeted him the familiarity of the melody and might of His voice, overwhelmed their hearts and their minds and they fell at his feet clinging desperately, like a child to her father. They clung on in gratitude, out of desperation, for comfort and for safety. Out of love there they worshipped Him. He was truly alive!
In love, he reached down and comforted them: “Do not be afraid” (Matthew 28:10). They had heard it once before but now they could believe it. He was there comforting them. His presence filled the void they had felt the past days. His warmth filled them where the coldness of the cruelty they had witnessed had crippled them. His voice silenced the echoes of the fear that had been tormenting them, just as it had silenced the waves. His love brought life where the fear had been slowly robbing it. He was alive and with them. He had won victory over sin for his Beloved. He defeated death by rising again. He defeated the darkness, by penetrating it with His light. There was no need for fear, because He had conquered it. And now they knew it, because they had encountered Him for themselves.
We too can be free from fear, but we must encounter Jesus ourselves. We cannot simply hear the news of His resurrection, we must encounter the resurrected Jesus first hand. At the nail-scarred feet of Jesus there is freedom from fear and the beginning of life. First we must come, surrendering our lives to Him. We must confess our need for Him to forgive us and free us of our sins, and then He will encounter us and invade us with freedom from fear. Fear of sin. Fear of sickness. Fear of death. Fear of loneliness. Fear of terror. Fear of the unknown. There is no need to fear, because He is alive! He has defeated fear!
Fear is a present entity, but it is not a prevailing one. We can be a victorious people, if we choose to surrender to the victorious God. Encounter him for yourself and watch fear vanish.
I dare you.
"We have not been given a spirit of fear, but of love, power and self-control." - 2 Timothy 1:7
