Meet Me in the Easter Story

It's Holy Week, when we as Christians will spend more time in worship then any other time of the year. We'll praise God for his sacrifice and glorify him for his victory. Though the events of the Easter story occurred thousands of years ago, it is still just as real and relevant today and if we could put ourselves in the story, it just might give us a fresh perspective on how great God is and how blessed we are. To that end, I attempted to put myself in the story in writing the poem that follows. I invite you to join me there. 

Meet Me in the Easter Story
Meet me in the Upper Room where
in the strength of our untested conviction
we were so sure that
we could never betray the Lord.
But Jesus knew.
And still He washed our feet.
Knowing, he shared his body and blood
in the bread and wine,
giving a new command:
to love.
Love with compassion and service,
in humility and sincerity,
with patience and mercy.
Love completely and unreservedly.
Love selflessly and boldly.
LOVE.
Love as He loves.
But we were too busy pointing fingers,
seeking the guilty
and boasting of our own greatness
to see the sinner,
the betrayer within.
How wrong we were even as we went with Him
to the garden.
 
Meet me at Gethsemane where
we would not even give an hour.
Did not sit with Him
in His anguish,
this Jesus we love.
“Pray that God will deliver you
from the trials and temptations about to come” He said
as He went off alone to pray.
His soul overwhelmed with sorrow,
pleading for another way,
pleading for His very life
yet choosing God’s will
over His own desire
while carelessly we dreamed beneath the olive trees.
 
Meet me in the darkness where
we raised a sword
and then ran away.
Cowering at a distance in the night
to satisfy our curiosity
too afraid to stand with
He who calls us friend.
 “I do not know him” we say.
“I do not know him.”
“I DO NOT KNOW HIM!”
And the rooster crows our sin.
 
Meet me at the Cross where
beaten and bloody beyond recognition
our Beloved has carried
the staggering weight of His own death,
the sin of the world,
our sin,
upon His flesh-torn back.
Hollow screams of pain
shrieking out the emptiness
of God’s justice crushing down upon Him.
Him who was sinless and had no stain.
A holy sacrifice.
A sacrifice of love.
With His last breath the earth shakes,
rocks split,
tombs open
and the temple curtain tears.
Oh, Father forgive us for we did not know.
 
Meet me at the Empty Tomb where
guards foolishly believe they secured
the hollowed out chamber of a rock
that cannot hold its Maker.
The very earth shakes as death
loses its grip upon
the Son of God
and the heavy stone rolls away
exposing an empty grave.
 
Mourning women meet brilliant angels
who comfort their fears and announce:
“He is not here!
He is risen!
Come and see.
Then go and tell.”
Duck your head with me as we enter
the echo chamber that holds only
strips of linen
and a neatly folded, empty burial cloth
laid there in the tomb
by the Savior
who no longer needs it.
 
Meet me in the garden outside the tomb,
in Galilee and Emmaus.
Where we know Him when we hear
His voice speak our name.
On the road home defeated when
the Word of God ignites a fire in our hearts
and the breaking of bread
opens our eyes to His presence.
Where our doubts are assuaged as
we touch and feel,
when we see and believe.
Where we recognize Him in miraculous provision
and welcome the glorious peace He gives.
In the moment of our restoration:
“Do you love Me the most?
Then value who and what I love.
Do you truly love Me?
Then care for those I love.
Do you love Me?
Then zealously nurture those I love.”
 
Meet me where you are
for where we are together
He also is
and waits for us.