Remembering Our Hope….

 

In the quiet after the loud tongues of those shouting crucify, or the voices of the soldiers casting lots – after the argument of the thieves beside Jesus on the cross, the whisper of that Savior letting go.  After the bloddy spilling of grace – him ripped wide open so that we made be made whole, the despair of a mother, the confusing job of wrapping a king – the savior in burial cloth, his throne never taken.  After the laying of the cold body in the tomb, the heavy stone being rolled into place – the feeling of finality to a shockingly real death.

After all of this, where does one find hope? 

I am finding that I need to soak in the silence between the death and the resurrection of Jesus.  I need to put myself in the place that despairs for that Savior – the Hope of a King dashed, before I really know what it meant to have Him rise to the throne of glory.  I need to be lost in the story, to know fully what lack of hope and life is – it is only found in life apart from God.

We can let our lives grow cold in a tomb of our own making, our own hearts rolling thick stones to shut out the world. 

It is the gambling and striving for garments and provision – looking down at the objects of this world, rather than up to the man on the cross.  It is wrapping ourselves tightly in things that turn to dust to protect us from the world, our cold bodies already beginning to decay on the inside.

I want my kids to rest in this moment to see this with me.  To wonder what this all means.  So this week we took time to pause, time to remember.  Because if we don't stop the whirling of the moments and the days, we just spin dizzy, and end up nauseated.

On Thursdaywe celebrated the Messiah as the Passover Lamb (a first for our family) – and remembered how we are to humble ourselves like the unleavened bread, and that our hearts were covered with the blood of the lamb and death passes over us, just as it did for the Israelites in Egypt.

 

We planted a garden of life that harbored a tomb, lights leading the way to the true Light of the World.

  

We baked cookies that bled red with a cross and reminded us of the sweet salvation found on that terrible day.

 

 

We pondered the despair and finality of Friday, knowing that Sunday was coming, and wrapped his body for burial, putting him in the tomb, and finding it empty.

We watched this short You Tube clip (preview for your family first) that brought full tears and rememberance.  We just rest in these thoughts tonight.

And in the morning, we will awaken to cinnamon rolls and talk about how the stone was rolled away and death was conquered and how our death is conquered too.   We will dress in Easter clothes and remind ourselves that we must clothe ourselves with Christ, his righteous covering that gives us new life. 

But even in all these things, we know that it is not in ritual or routine, or in customs that salvation is found. 

If we rely on these things for salvation, we have missed the entire point.  But these things cause us to reflect on who God is, to bury ourselves in the tomb with Him, and to wait for his breath to bring us to life.

And there……in midst of the death and the dependence on the breath of God…..there is where we remember our hope – that the Savior has come, the righteous lamb, the perfect sacrifice.  And God no longer sees my sin, but only the righteous blood of the Lamb.  What a glorious thing!  We are redeemed!

 

Karen