For decades, I’ve had ambivalent feelings on the Saturday before Easter, or Easter Eve as I think I’ll call it from now on.
Holy Week, as it’s known by those who keep the Christian calendar of holy days, is a time of somber self-evaluation and wonder at the amazing love that God the Creator showed when he came in lowly human form and died a torturous death on a Roman cross. I never make it through the week without some tears and regrets. As Chris Rice sang in his song “Clumsy,” “You’d think I’d have it down by now. Been practicing for thirty-three years.” No matter how close I get to Jesus, I still sin and make mistakes and fail. I guess that’s what grace is all about. God knows how prone to failure I am, but he didn’t hesitate to take on all my sins (as well as those of everyone else), and make me free from them.
By the time I get to what is called Good Friday, I struggle with why we call it “good.” There was a lot of bad that went into that terrible day, and it ended in the darkness of a tomb, with a very solid stone rolled against the entry. What can I say? I am emotionally wrung out by the end of it.
So, when I wake up on the next morning, I have an emotional hangover from the pain of considering what Jesus did on my behalf. Ugh.
But there’s something else there. Unlike Jesus’ disciples, I know what’s coming. I can’t imagine the deep disappointment they must have felt as the shock of Jesus’ sham trial and unjust execution wore off. I think it would be more weight than I could bear, at least. But then…
The most amazing thing anybody could ever imagine has happened, and we’re free to celebrate it in the most glorious of hope-filled days ever! I know what tomorrow morning will bring! Not only will all the hopelessness be banished, but what replaces it is so overwhelmingly wonderful that the word “hope” doesn’t say enough! The anticipation is something I will no longer deny.
This year, I began to realize that these feelings are a lot like the ones I’ve felt on Christmas Eve. All the expectation and excitement that I’ve felt (especially in my younger years) as I looked forward to the celebration of Jesus’ lowly birth begin to fight their way into my conscious mind, because I’m about to celebrate Jesus’ rebirth, in a manner of speaking. The first one speaks of his willingness to become one of us. This one speaks of his becoming what many of us hope someday to be. Risen!? What an amazing hope! What a gift beyond all other gifts I’ve ever been given! I can’t wait until tomorrow to laugh and sing and rejoice about it! I want to do it NOW!!!
Maybe I need to begin a tradition in my family of Easter Eve. Like Christmas Eve, it will be a time of happy forward-looking in anticipation of our celebration on Resurrection Day! There probably won’t be an Easter tree, or a pile of presents. They don’t seem fitting in light of the gift we’ve been given from on high.
And maybe the previous week will be swallowed up in joy, forgotten because of the amazing wonder of Jesus’ Undefeatable Life.
I’m sorry. I just CAN’T WAIT until TOMORROW!!! I have to shout it NOW!!
HE IS RISEN! HALLELUIAH!!