I cannot imagine what it was like to find the tomb empty. The women were returning with spices to anoint Jesus' body. I guess today, we know the tomb is empty and should be, for the Lord is risen. But if you were not expecting that, what would you have felt? You are carrying spices, intending to honor the body of Christ. How shocking that must have been. His followers loved him very much. He had been whipped and tortured into a bloody mess. The women had washed him before they put him in the tomb. Now, they come back and find he is gone.

What if someone you loved had died, and then you discovered the body missing ~ probably taken by the very people who killed him? It would have to hurt, I can only try to imagine.

As I reflect today, now, during the first week of Easter, I anticipate the tomb to be empty and I celebrate this. The Lord is risen, indeed. For me. An unworthy sinner. Yet through his blood I am made presentable for God. No matter what good I may attempt, I have no hope of purifying myself enough to stand before God. I cannot. I need Jesus. Through his great sacrifice, I’m prepared.

Easter Sunday as my family and I walked into the church, dressed in our very brightest and best new clothes, the beautiful sun on our faces on a magnificent morning, I went to my pew and knelt and prayed and stood, listened, sang and had communion, side by side with my family and friends. I sang joyful songs of resurrection and prayed for forgiveness, thanksgiving, remembrance, and more. I reached out and touched the hands of people in front of me and beside me and behind me to offer the peace of the Lord. And I walked up the chancel steps and reverenced and I ate the body and drank the blood of Christ in communion. I am in communion with him. So unworthy. But I am made worthy. We’re partners. Buddies. And I love him, and he loves me and I just don’t always understand but I do accept. I don’t know why Jesus puts up with me, but he does. I knelt again and thanked him. I went to the parish hall and stood with my people. Coffee. Donuts. Love.

Tonight I’ve read my prayers and Scripture, and I am doing my best to cling tightly to Christ. I am very imperfect, but I do choose to take the pierced hand of Jesus ~ pierced for me, as a perfect sacrifice. For me. And you.