I think of how dark that Friday was when Christ was lifted
up on the cross.
On that terrible Friday the earth shook and grew dark.
Frightful storms lashed at the earth.
Those evil men who sought His life rejoiced. Now that Jesus
was no more, surely those who followed Him would disperse. On that day they
stood triumphant.
On that day the veil of the temple was rent in twain.
Mary Magdalene and Mary, the mother of Jesus, were both
overcome with grief and despair. The superb man they had loved and honored hung
lifeless upon the cross.
On that Friday the Apostles were devastated. Jesus, their
Savior—the man who had walked on water and raised the dead—was Himself at the
mercy of wicked men. They watched helplessly as He was overcome by His enemies.
On that Friday the Savior of mankind was humiliated and
bruised, abused and reviled.
It was a Friday filled with devastating, consuming sorrow
that gnawed at the souls of those who loved and honored the Son of God.
I think that of all the days since the beginning of this
world’s history, that Friday was the darkest.
But the doom of that day did not endure.
The despair did not linger because on Sunday, the
resurrected Lord burst the bonds of death. He ascended from the grave and
appeared gloriously triumphant as the Savior of all mankind.
And in an instant the eyes that had been filled with
ever-flowing tears dried. The lips that had whispered prayers of distress and
grief now filled the air with wondrous praise, for Jesus the Christ, the Son of
the living God, stood before them as the firstfruits of the Resurrection, the
proof that death is merely the beginning of a new and wondrous existence.
Each of us will have our own Fridays—those days when the
universe itself seems shattered and the shards of our world lie littered about
us in pieces. We all will experience those broken times when it seems we can
never be put together again. We will all have our Fridays.
But I testify to you in the name of the One who conquered
death—Sunday will come. In the darkness of our sorrow, Sunday will come.
No matter our desperation, no matter our grief, Sunday will
come. In this life or the next, Sunday will come.
I testify to you that the Resurrection is not a fable.
