Story of Easter: The day the sun refused to shine
On this Easter morning come and share a journey with me to explain to you, why there was a day when the sun refused to shine.
It all began on a Thursday morning as a growing crowd along with Jesus and his disciples arrived in Jerusalem for one last Passover meal. Jesus took his place at the Passover table and his apostles joined him. Jesus said to them “I earnestly desired to eat this Passover meal with you before I suffer. I tell you, I won’t eat it again until it is fulfilled in God’s kingdom.” (Luke 22:14-16).
Jesus spoke of the Passover bread as his own body that would be given for others. Jesus spoke of the Passover cup as containing his own blood that would be poured out to establish a new covenant, meaning a new relationship with God. Jesus’ death would accomplish what the Temple, with its sacrificial system, had pointed toward, but never was actually accomplished.
The next few hours after Passover were tragic and brutal. Jesus wrestled in prayer in the garden of Gethsemane. He poured out his heart to his Heavenly Father as he prayed, “Father, if it is your will take this cup of suffering away from me. However, not my will but your will must be done,” as his sweat became like drops of blood falling on the ground. This is the most soul wrenching moment for Jesus, as the cross begins to cast a shadow across his life.
Jesus arose from his prayer and was talking to a few disciples, when Judas appeared and placed a kiss of betrayal on his cheek, identifying Jesus to the elders and the chief priests, that he is the one they want. They arrested him and took him to Pilate. After Pilate had been listening to the crowds for some time crying “Crucify him!” Pilate reluctantly agreed, because he said, “I find nothing in this man to condemn.”
But the voices from the crowds prevailed. Pilate gave sentence that their demand should be granted, as they led Jesus away toward Golgotha. It is Thursday night, the Passover is over and Jesus has been incarcerated by Pilate, the elders and chief priests. Evening darkness settles over Jerusalem.
Charles Tindley writes: When the hosts of hell assails, and my strength begins to fail,
Thou who never lost a battle, stand by me.
A dark Friday
It is early on Friday morning as we find ourselves at the very heart and soul of our Christian faith.
It all began in Jerusalem when Pilate condemned Jesus to be nailed to a Roman cross between two criminals on a hill outside of the city limits called Golgotha, known as the Place of the Skull. At mid-day there was a deep darkness over the land and the earth shook from an earthquake and the temple veil was torn in two.
The veil covered the Holy of Holies, where dwelt the very presence of God, where no male could go except the High Priest once a year. What served as a protector of God’s presence has now been thrown open, thus preparing the way for the gospel to be preached openly to everyone.
The women were watching the cross from a distance. Only John tells us that Mary stood alone watching her son slowly die on a cross. I can’t help but imagine what was going through her mind. At this moment the words from the angel at Bethlehem, at the time of Jesus’ birth, were coming back to her, “Don’t be afraid Mary, God is honoring you. The Lord will give him the throne of David his father and there will be no end of his kingdom.”
Mary probably did what she did most of her life, “pondered” all things in her heart. She was absent and did not appear with the other women at the tomb on Easter morning, perhaps it was all just too painful. Mary appears only one more time in the New Testament in Acts 1:4. Mary was the only biblical figure who was there both at the manger and the cross.
At 3:00 in the afternoon on the hill at Golgotha as the sun refused to shine Jesus cried out, “Father into your hands I commend my spirit.” Then he breathed his last, like a child falling asleep in his father’s arms, there was a great darkness over the land as Jesus died. It was as if the sun itself could not bear to look upon the deed that men’s hands had done. Or possibly a cosmic sign of the significance of Jesus’ death for all the world to see.
When Pilate learned from the centurion that Jesus was dead, he gave the body to Joseph of Arimathea. He brought a linen cloth, took Jesus’ body down from the cross, wrapped it in the cloth and laid him in the tomb. He laid a large stone in front of the tomb and went away.
As evening arrives darkness settles over Jerusalem. The Day of Infamy is coming to a close. Mark tells us that the disciples have fled in terror, fearful for their lives. The limp, lifeless body of Jesus has been incased in Joseph’s tomb. At sundown the sound of the ram’s horn drifts across the city as a reminder that the Sabbath is about to begin.
Charles Wesley writes, O love divine what has thou done, the immortal God for me has died,
my love my Lord has been crucified.
A quiet Saturday
Saturday ushers in a day of rest. The Bible tells us nothing about Saturday. I visualize it as a quiet morning. The women who are anxious to get to the tomb and prepare the body for burial are resting today in preparation for the Sabbath.
It is such a contrast to yesterday. Workman in the deserted streets are picking up the trash and litter from the day before. They are gathering the placards that have been tossed down in the streets with such statements as: “Crucify Him,” “Give us Barabbas,” “Hail King of the Jews!”
After the Temple service people stood around talking in small groups as usual. All the comments were about yesterday. “Yesterday was a weird day, many are still talking about it.” “I never saw anything like it.” “No doubt he was guilty.” “Men did what they had to do.” Many nodded in approval.
They slowly drifted away to their homes and families. The calmness of the day convinced the authorities that this Jesus thing is now over. Saturday came and went. It was an uneventful day. Jesus’ body is in the tomb. His disciples are in hiding. The women were grieving and for many it appeared as the end. What will tomorrow bring?
Robert Lowery writes, Low in the grave he lay, Jesus my Savior,
Waiting for the coming Day, Jesus my Lord.
Easter morning at the tomb
The first day of the week is dawning in the eastern skies. The world has no idea what this new day is going to be. Each of the gospels offers a unique version of what happened on Easter morning. But they all agree that the women were the first to arrive at the tomb.
For the women it was the end of the journey. They were there on Friday when Jesus breathed his last. They were there when Joseph wrapped Jesus’ body with a linen cloth and laid it in the tomb. They saw the entrance covered with a large boulder to protect it from thieves. The women’s plan were rather practical. They were bringing spices rather than expectations. Because, they were expecting to find a dead body they were hoping to prepare for burial.
As the first light of the Sabbath day dawned, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary came to keep vigil at the tomb. Suddenly, the earth reeled and rocked under their feet as the angel of the Lord descended from heaven coming right up to where they were standing. He rolled back the stone from the tomb and sat on it as though he was saying, “What took you so long?” His appearance was like lightning and his garment as white as snow. The guards trembled with terror.
The angel said to the women, “Don’t be afraid. I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here. He is risen as he said he would. Come and see the place where he was lying. Now go quickly and tell his disciples that he has been raised from the dead, and that he is going ahead of you to Galilee. That is where you will see him.
The women scurried off quickly away from the tomb, in a mixture of terror and delight to tell the disciples the most remarkable good news. Jesus is Risen. Their witness to their discovery of the empty tomb is the center point of the Christian faith and the resurrection of Jesus is God’s response to Jesus’ death.
Suddenly, right before them was Jesus himself, who said to the astonishment of the women, “Greetings.” The woman ran up to him and held his feet, prostrating themselves in front of him. Jesus said to them. “Don’t be afraid. Go tell my brothers that I am going off to Galilee. Tell them you will see me there.”
No wonder the women were astonished. What they thought was the end of the story — is the beginning of a story that never ends.
Natalie Sleeth writes: In our end is our beginning, in our time infinity,
In our doubt there is believing, in our life eternity,
In our death a resurrection, at last a victory.
Unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.
Jack Stroman, Th.D. United Methodist Minister, retired living in Tallahassee.