Easter thoughts

We had a pretty strange Easter weekend. For the past few years, I've been pretty involved with church stuff, so have known intimately what would happen with the services, etc, and that's been my primary focus. This year, I didn't have any of those responsibilities, so was looking forward to just heading along to the services as part of what we did over the weekend.

For Good Friday, we went to my parents' church, and up the front there was a painting that one of the women from the congregation did a few years ago (I'm hoping to get a copy of it to post on here later). It was a great piece of art, of Jesus on the cross, head bowed, hair in front of his eyes. I thought it was great - very poignant. What stunned Ali and I, though, was that a number of times, later in the day, Josh (who's 4, remember) kept talking about it. He started by saying "The picture at church made me sad". When we asked him why, he said "because the man in the painting looked sad". We explained to him that it was Jesus, and he was dying on the cross, which is why he was sad.

What struck me was how often I stop to recognise that I should be sad, too. It's so easy to know the story, to know Jesus died, but with Easter Sunday in the background, therefore not allowing the fullness of what transpired to hit home. As I said, I've been involved in many Easter services, and one of the things that used to irk me was when people would complain that our Good Friday service was too dark, or too depressing, or words to that effect. I need to be slapped around the head with the truth that this man, a man with feelings, who suffered incredible pain, who died, made an incredible sacrifice. It's not enough to stop at understanding atonement or penal substitution. Those things are important, but so is the fact that Jesus chose to die, for me, for you. I should be sad, and I'm glad that Josh was, too.

Easter Sunday, we had plans to go to another church, but unfortunately, Rachel got really crook late Saturday night, and spent most of Sunday throwing up. She was really weak, very lethargic, slept a lot, and was really quiet (something not quite normal for her...!) This morning (Monday), she was still pretty weak, but after some food throughout the day, she perked up and was back to her normal self. I was amazed at how great it was to hear her talk, laugh, cry... even scream. It was just wonderful to have our little girl back to normal.

In the midst of that, another Easter revelation came to me - the joy, the unspeakable joy that the disciples must have felt when Jesus was amongst them following his resurrection. To think you were never going to hear him again, laugh with him again, eat with him again... and then there he is, in the flesh, back.

As equally as Good Friday should be about grief, about darkness, sadness, reflection, Easter Sunday should be about joy, celebration, laughing, eating, remembering that Jesus is not gone, he's with us - he went through the darkness, and came out the other side, to bring light to all.

I love Easter.