Easter Sunday

Good Friday was, for the disciples, a day of sorrow. A day where their hopes and dreams in who they believed was the promised Messiah came crashing down.

They believed that he was coming as a political and military Saviour, not a spiritual one. Somebody who would take on the Roman Empire and lead Israel to victory and freedom. Someone who would rule as a king.

But all this had failed. How? The chief priests had taken him and had crucified him. He had died and had been buried in a tomb. A stone had been rolled across the entrance. Guards were positioned outside the tomb.

All seemed lost.

But then came the Resurrection. Christ did not stay dead, but rose again. Utter defeat was turned into victory.

If not for Easter Sunday, Good Friday would have truly been a day of sorrows. A day where evil took and killed an innocent and holy man.

But that was not the end of the story.

If he had not risen, it would have proven that he did not have power over life and death. What good is a dead Messiah?

But he did rise, and stayed on earth for another forty days, before finally ascending to heaven, where he is now preparing a place for all of us.

A place for those that accept Christ's redeeming sacrifice, his giving himself up for us.

Will you accept?