Ah. It’s Sunday. It’s Sunday, right? Finally. Finally. Sunday. It is Sunday. I’m so relieved.
Friday was brutal. Just absolutely brutal.
You know, it’s funny, because the “it’s Friday, but Sunday’s coming” movement really took hold of everyone in the Christian community, including me. It gave a trendy spin, just simple enough, to convey the enormity of the message of hope that Christians cling to. Five simple words gave us an easier way to convey the message of the horror of Friday, absolved by the joy of Sunday.
Thursday we were oblivious. We went about our regular day full of routines, missteps, mistakes, triumphs, meals, friends, work. We got up and washed our face and skipped breakfast and started our day. We went to work and held our kids and caught up on the news and went to bed. We kissed our spouses and fed our dogs. We had a fresh new day to rise and shine. It was Thursday. It was the “before”.
And then Friday came. Friday came. Our Lord and Savior was brutalized, and without mercy, crucified. There is no way to tell that story with anything other than horror. People who do not believe that Jesus was the Christ, Son of the living God, could easily tell that story with tears and human compassion. You cannot tell the story without a flood of emotions for his torture and suffering.
Christians believe that Jesus’s story, from birth to death, was for us. We believe that Jesus was born for one purpose. To teach us and to die for us. We weep with the knowledge that His life was taken to pay our price. He came to pay our ransom. His blood ran down His face and His body, to cover our debts. What He endured, He endured for us.
That belief makes Friday horrific. Friday, if left to end on the 24th hour, was horrific. We would remember Mary, and the crowd and be humbled, and guilty, and mourn, and sorry. Truly sorry. Forever.
But then came Sunday. Sunday. Sunday all day Sunday. Hello Sunday. So very desperately and tearfully, joyfully, so very glad to see you.
Jesus rose on Sunday. He rose. Our joy and our hope runs deep and freely. Our debt was paid on Friday. We thought Jesus died for us. Purely and willfully died for us. Died. Then Sunday came. Our Friday was now forever changed by Jesus rising. Amazing.
I am no match for the ways of this world.
I am simply saved by grace.
The one who goes before me, carried my weight, shouldered my burden, and paid my price has risen.
It is Sunday.