The beautiful story of redemption began long before Good Friday and has extended far beyond that first Easter Sunday. It began before the world was made.
God planned a way for all of us to be reconciled to Him before Adam took his first breath. What a glorious great Father we have.
Our God knew we would fail the test and fall into sin, but He also loved us so very much that He never wanted us to be apart from Him.
Jesus’ sacrifice that Friday was the answer to allowing us to return to the pure souls we were intended to be.
Jesus’ righteousness, His purity, is imputed to us when we believe in Him as our Savior, which was made possible when He defeated death and arose that Sunday morning.
When I think of all the songs of Easter, one that touches my heart deeply is the African American spiritual, “Were You There.” Each verse is repeated soulfully three times to make us consider the words and the actions that occurred on Friday and Sunday. Sung before the third repetition are the words:
Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
Were you there when they nailed him to the tree?
Were you there when they laid him in the tomb?
Were you there when God raised him from the tomb?
With tears in my eyes, the question, “Were you there when they crucified my Lord,” made me ask myself if I would have been with the crowd yelling, “Crucify him,” or would I have been off to the side praying for Jesus to be set free.
Oh, I hope and pray that I would have been a follower, but many disciples and priests did not come to recognize Jesus as the Messiah until after His resurrection, even His own brothers had been doubters.
The thought that had Jesus not been obedient and sacrificed His life for me that Friday makes my heart tremble, for without His grace, I now would be dead in my sins and forever separated from the great I Am, my heavenly Father.
The words, “Were you there when they nailed him to the tree,” achingly remind me of my many sins that necessitated Jesus’ death. Those sins were nailed to that cross along with Jesus. He died for me. Everything wrong I have done and will do, Jesus’ life was given to save me from my punishment for those sins.
The awareness of how vacant my life would be if I had not given my soul back to Jesus causes me to tremble at the beautiful grace of the Father.
“Were you there when they laid him in the tomb?” Two men carried Jesus’ crucified, battered, and beaten body to the borrowed tomb and wrapped it for burial.
Two men were the entire mourning party for our Lord. When they laid Him in the tomb, was I hiding with the others? This hard question made me consider my commitment toward my Lord Jesus because the frightening thought persists that under persecution, I might deny my faith and fall short.
But finally, I can sing with joy, “Were you there when God raised him from the tomb? Oh, glorious day! Yes! I know my Savior lives! He lives!
My life is proof enough, but so are the millions of other lives touched and changed by Jesus. Our Savior lives! Halleluiah! He is risen! He is risen indeed!
ED. NOTE: Amy Patsch writes from Ocean City. Email her at writerGoodGod@gmail.com.
