I know a man.
They said He was God.
He had the hands of a construction worker and the tongue of a poet and teacher. He shaped stone and wood with one, and the hearts of men and women with the other.
He was a king by birth but was happy to be thought of as the illegitimate child of a teenage girl.
He was always holy but never boring. Crowds of people followed Him wherever He went. He was the very definition of purity, yet he would not hesitate to touch lepers and eat with sinners. He made blind men see. He made deaf men hear. He made broken people whole.
He made demons shriek in terror and flee because of His very presence, and then He would gather children in His arms and bless them. Never has anyone walked the earth who was so terrifying and so beautiful at the same time. He was harder than granite yet softer than a sunrise.
I know a man whose uncompromising hatred of sin was tempered only by His overwhelming love for sinners. He made the self righteous angry and made sinners weep with joy. He had a habit of afflicting the comfortable and comforting the afflicted.
He was a religious leader who had no time for religious people. He seemed to prefer the company of outcasts, prostitutes and white collar criminals, and He didn’t care what anybody said about it.
I know a man who was so hated by the religious and political leaders that they arrested Him and put Him on trial. They accused Him of blasphemy. But how could God be guilty of blasphemy? The whole thing seemed absurd. So they accused Him of being a king, He pled guilty to that, then some soldiers led Him away and nailed Him to a cross.
But what is God doing on a cross? Can God suffer pain? Can God suffer loss? It was only a few hours but it was Hell, on earth. And then He died.
The light of the world had fallen into darkness. The water of life had died of thirst. The bread of life had died hungry. Gods don’t die for their people, people die for their gods. Not this time. He saved others, He could not save Himself.
Demons laughed. Heaven wept. The sun went dark. The earth convulsed and strong soldiers fell to their knees. What had just happened? What have we done? Then they took Heaven down from the cross and they buried it. They set a guard on it to make sure that it did not escape. He was gone. He was all gone.
Three days later the universe shifted. I know a man who rose from the dead. In one blinding flash that shook heaven and earth all His words came true. Hell wasn’t laughing anymore.
The grave opens wide its throat to swallow us all. It choked on Jesus. It had to spit Him out. Death seems to take everything but it could not handle this man. There was no room for Him there, He was too much like His Father.
I am not convinced about very many things in this world, but the older I get the more convinced I am of one thing. That nearly 2000 years ago, on a Judean hillside, Jesus of Nazareth walked out of a tomb. And then He punched a hole in eternity for the rest of us to walk through.
What does it all mean?
It means that there is a God, and there is a Heaven, and that this life was meant to be forever.
It means that God took the worst thing that has ever happened and turned it into the best thing that has ever happened. As only He can do.
It means that I know a man whose glory would shame a thousand suns; yet this very day He is meeting with ten people in a mud hut in Sudan, because He still doesn’t care what people say about Him. He has nothing to prove. You see, He didn’t just cheat death, He completely disarmed it. He made it look stupid.
It means the gates of Hell are in smoldering ruins.
It means Freedom. It means Grace. It means Forgiveness. It means Life.
It means that seated on high, right next to the Ancient of Days, is a man.
I know that man.
You can trust Him.
Happy Easter.
© JD Green 2019