Good morning, and Happy Easter. It’s half nine and I have a few minutes before I set off to the busy-ness and worship of the day. This week, which is always special to us anyway, has been extra special to me, and my head has been zinging and warbling and burbling with thoughts, all jostling to come to the surface. They’re like bubbles, they erupt on the surface of my day, catching the light and then they burst! I try so hard to keep them, to remember just exactly what the thought was…. but here’s a couple that haven’t left me, that haven’t burst and vanished, one from last Sunday and one from today:
The evening Jesus was betrayed, He took bread and gave thanks. Then He broke it, saying ‘This is my body, given for you.’ He took the bread and gave thanks. Knowing, fully knowing what was to come, the breaking of His body, His torture and an agonising shameful death. He gave thanks. The thanks He gave, what was He thankful for? The opportunity, the ability to save us. To die for us. And all His life He was heading inexorably, unrelentingly, towards that moment. For us.
And then, today, as I put out some recycling (my glamorous life!) and I saw the sky red on the horizon, and the brightly painted houses all around me, felt the freshness of the morning, breathed God’s good clear air, it came to me – we have no need for proof of the truth of the resurrection, of the empty tomb, other than ourselves. We are all the proof we need. More proof than we could ever ask for. Jesus is alive. We have met Him. We walk with Him daily. He is our beating hearts, He is our pounding blood, He is our love and our reality.
Happy Easter. He is risen!
‘Where I am going now, you cannot follow. But you will follow later.’ Our sure and certain hope.