If you’re someone who trusts only what you can see and touch, you’re not going to believe what you’re about to read.
But that’s your choice.
Two thousand years ago a traveling preacher told unforgettable stories to crowds of thousands. Stories about lost sheep, virgins and oil lamps, and sowers scattering seed.
When he touched them, he erased leprosy, healed blindness, deafness, and hemorrhages. He cast out demons with a word. He spoke to a dead 12-year-old girl, and she sat up.
Because he worked miracles and told life-changing stories, he was probably the most popular man in Judea and Galilee. He couldn’t go anywhere without being thronged. Everyone hung on his words. People begged him to heal them. He did. Even the king knew his name and hoped to see him work a miracle.
Then, during a sacred feast called Passover, during which Jews remembered God freeing their ancestors from slavery in Egypt, Jerusalem’s population swelled from about one hundred thousand to three million.
Now imagine you are one of those three million people.
While you wait in line at a well, you see an ordinary-looking man ride into the city on a donkey’s colt. People are shouting, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” They spread their coats on the road. Others toss palm branches before his colt.
The next day as you wait to offer your unblemished lamb, you see this same man teaching in the temple. Your pulse quickens as you see Pharisees and Sadducees glaring at him and whispering, while the crowds hang on his every word.
You waken on Friday morning still full from last night’s Passover feast and hear a mob chanting, “Crucify him!”
Your stomach clenches. ‘Crucify him?’ You didn’t come to Jerusalem to see a criminal executed. You try to ignore the shouting, but the noise intensifies. Curiosity takes over, and you swing the door open.
You clap your hand over your mouth as a man dripping with blood carries a cross beam. He’s almost unrecognizable. But…there is something familiar about him. It hits you. It’s him! The man on the colt. The teacher at the temple. Why would Pilate crucify him? People jostle you from all directions and you get caught in the tidal wave of an angry mob.
They stop at the top of a hill where two men already hang on crosses. You try to turn around and push your way back to the house, but you can’t get past. You see a group of women sobbing nearby. Unable to leave, you press your hands to your ears to avoid hearing the victim scream as soldiers drive nails into the man’s hands and feet. But you hear nothing other than the mob yelling and the women sobbing. You open your eyes slowly and see he is already hanging on the cross.
You’re horrified and mesmerized at the same time. He is silent while others scream. The women have moved to the base of the cross now. A lone man has joined them. His face is streaked with tears. You want to leave, but can’t. Your legs refuse to move. Time passes. Suddenly the sky goes dark. Fear fills you and you run back to the house. You stay there until Sabbath has ended, unable to erase the picture of the teacher on the cross from your mind. You see it in your dreams and sleep fitfully.
Just before daybreak you decide to go to a well. At least you won’t have to wait in line this morning. As you open the door, a woman races past. Almost instantly, a door swings open and two peasant men run after her.
You decide you’ve had enough of this city and its insane inhabitants. Just as you tie your sandal straps, you hear voices in the street. “He’s alive! I saw him! He said my name. You saw the empty tomb, Peter. You saw the linen cloths, John. He is risen!”
The man called John wipes tears off his cheeks as his face splits into a smile. “Yes, Mary. He is risen indeed!”
A jolt of recognition surges through you. He was the lone man at the foot of the cross two days ago. And this woman. She was there, too. Without consciously deciding to, you walk up to the trio and ask, “Who is risen?” Your heart hammers and you hope, you pray, it is the teacher.
Mary and John say in unison, “Jesus!”
More than two thousand years have passed since that first Easter morning. But we face the same decision as my fictional Passover visitor: Believe Jesus rose from the dead, or deny it.
Jesus lived, taught, and died by crucifixion. This is well documented in ancient history. Even the greatest skeptic has to acknowledge that. But believing Jesus is alive today -- that takes faith.
But consider this: If Jesus didn’t rise from the dead, why do people willingly risk their lives two thousand years after Jesus’ crucifixion to tell others about Him, translate and hand out Bibles, or show The Jesus Film in Muslim-dominated countries?
People are dying all around the world because they follow Jesus. Pastor John Cao is imprisoned in China and Pastor Youcef Nadarkhani in jail in Iran, just to name two. Please pray for these fearless men of God.
Here’s the bottom line: Either you believe Jesus rose from the dead and have dedicated your life to him or not. This either/or decision determines your eternal destination.
In the end it’s about faith. Will you put your faith in Jesus, or will you put your faith in yourself? That’s what it really boils down to. It’s not about evidence. It’s about courage.
Be brave enough to believe, and watch Jesus prove he is real. All God’s blessings to you this Holy Week.