Devotion in the Dark

Standing in the sacred shadow of Holy Week, looking at the collection of people at Calvary – I think of what the story would be like without the devotion of women. The safe way to get through Easter is on the pastel side of the path.  These girls were on the path stained with blood tracks.  The devotion of Mary, Mary, Mary, Susanna, Joanna  – whether watching from a distance or kneeling close enough to hear His final words, it took raw courage.

And they stayed . . .

Were you there when they crucified my Lord?  Can you be there?  Reimagine their faith and what their eyes beheld and what they heard with each pounding sound taking their Savior’s breath away. Looking at the other side of the story ~ the men.  Judas sold Him out, Peter denied Him three times over, and Thomas doubted the resurrection.  And the remnant of ten were hiding behind locked doors for fear of arrest.

Mary Magdalene was found in darkness by her Deliverer and now walked bravely in the darkness of the streets and hillside graves to find Him.  And the stone was rolled away – so the awestruck women anointed His broken body.  Mary was the first to see the resurrected Jesus!  But when she rushed to tell the men, they thought it was an idle tale.  Lk 21:11

It’s never been an idle tale . . .

Yes, it’s comforting to look at the hosannas rather than the passion – but it happened.  It really happened just the way it was written in the true Word of God.  The witnessing, weeping and devoted want us to know every detail . . .

The final hours of Jesus had Him face betrayal, devouring crowds, a cup that wouldn’t pass and His Father’s will to carry the world uphill to a cross once upon an ancient week that lives forever.  We can’t look around Gethsemane and Golgotha without recognizing the human side of suffering – a healthy thirty-three-year-old carpenter whipped to holy bone that caused failing organs, ruptured heart, swollen eyes that looked over in mercy at a thief hanging next to Him. And then He looked beneath to see a grieving momma who knelt before pierced feet that she helped to take a first step.  Gratefully, John the beloved was there to uphold her.

Be there, Friday – pause in the deep of the agony of real people. Be there in the silent Saturday middle. And be there in the Sunday– where the stone is rolled away, the veil is torn and the resurrected King is forever glorified and lifted high above it all.  Be there and may we allow their devotion to become ours . . .