“Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him;” (Isaiah 53, vv.4–5)
The black night crushed down on me, a weight greater than any I’d ever borne. My soul felt empty, devoid of all light.
Widow. I was a widow. Just a few hours ago, my beloved husband, Ron, had passed from this life in to the next, leaving a crevice in my heart I feared could never be filled.
The tears streamed down my face. I reached across the bed for Ron’s pillow, needing the comfort of his scent as I waited for the first pink threads of morning.
“Behold, and see if there be any sorrow like unto his sorrow.” (Lamentations 1, v.12)
I can imagine the emptiness the disciples of Jesus felt on the Silent Saturday after His crucifixion was akin to mine. The man they had believed in, pinned their hopes on, planned their futures with, had died. Those few who had stayed into the last moments saw his limp and battered body lowered from the cross and laid on the ground.
“It is finished,” He had said.
Did His followers understand the magnitude of what He uttered? The Greek term “it is finished” is translated as “telelastal,” which means “paid in full.” Jesus had marked the debt of sin paid. As they huddled together, weeping for their loss, some of them feeling the guilt of things not said or done, did they understand the promise of His last words?
“Let us break their bonds asunder, and cast away their yokes from us.” (Psalm 2, v.3)
The sorrow that crushed me that night laid as heavily on the group as the boulder that had been rolled before the tomb. They had believed in Jesus’ earthly existence and kingship. They could not yet understand that Jesus of Nazareth had come not to lift their physical burdens, but the heavier weight on their souls.
I knew that night, as they did not, that while Ron’s earthly life had come to an end, his eternal life had just begun. I felt the loss of my husband deeply; a piece of myself had been severed. But as I hugged his pillow and waited for daylight and the arrival of our children, I also rejoiced that Ron was no longer in pain; he had been made whole.
I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth: And though worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God.” (Job 19, vv.25–26); “For now is Christ risen from the dead, the first fruits of them that sleep.” (I Corinthians 15, v.20)
Thankfully, we know how the story of Jesus ends. On Sunday, our church rang out with hymns of praise and shouts of Hallelujah as we celebrated the miracles. Not just one of His resurrection, but of the redemption given to all of us.
As I stood among other believers, singing the Hallelujah chorus, I knew something the disciples would learn as the three women went to the tomb.
It was empty.
The cost of sin had been paid so that we, my husband included, could be People of the Resurrection.
Our own tombs are also empty.
Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, and hath redeemed us to God by his blood, to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honor, and glory, and blessing. Blessing, and honor, glory, and power, be unto him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb for ever and ever.” (Revelation 5, vv.12–14) “Amen.”
