Easter Reflections

I have commented in the past on how much I love the Christmas season. It is easy to delight in the joy of the season, the festivities, the anticipation of the children, but also to be awed at the thought of the Creator taking on flesh to dwell among us. This Incarnation is such an enormous miracle, so unheard of in other religions that the infinite God would humble Himself to walk among us, that it makes the entire season one of unalloyed joy.

Many argue that Easter is the greater holiday, though. It is certainly clear that the Resurrection is the linchpin of Christianity. As the apostle Paul says, if Christ is not raised then we are yet in our sins and without hope in the world. And yet its joy is not unalloyed. That is the result, of course, of the great sorrow of Good Friday. At Easter, as at no other time of the year, we are confronted with the enormous ugliness of our own sinfulness. The crown of thorns, the merciless beating, the horrific death on the cross of Calvary all show us in a scene too horrible to look at the ugliness of our sin. When I have watched Mel Gibson's  movie The Passion of the Christ, I have to look away during the scourging. It is depicted very accurately in historical terms, and I cannot watch it. It is too painful to watch, especially when I know all too well why it happened.

There were hints of this at the Passover. When Israel was delivered from Egypt, the Jews would also have had their firstborn taken by the death angel had they not sacrificed the Passover lamb; they too were guilty enough to die. A substitute was needed. Even as God was delivering them His justice required recognition of the fact that they, too, were worthy of death. When Jesus re-interpreted the Passover at the Last Supper He made that connection more clear; He would be the substitute, for the Jews and all mankind. He became the Passover for all of us. So whenever we take the Lord's Supper we celebrate a new kind of Passover.

But that sacrifice is always in view, at least for me, at Easter. I did not want to see Mel Gibson's movie, but I forced myself to see it. When I have attended Passion plays, I have forced myself to go. I know what I am going to be confronted with, and it is ugly: my own sinfulness.

I think we could do better on Easter morning, or at least I could. I have a hard time shaking off Good Friday. I think the women at the grave and the Disciples did, too. 'Where have they taken His body?' they asked. But He was not there. ' He is Risen!' replied the angel. He is risen indeed! Let us rejoice, for the ugliness now has been dealt with.