For many, including myself, this very weekend is considered a time to mourn the death of Jesus Christ and celebrate his resurrection three days later. New dresses and shirts and ties are purchased. Family and friends gather for good food and time spent together. Eggs are hidden and little children pepper the yard to find the little treasures hidden inside.
But these three days. Do we really even have the ability to begin to fathom the depth of pain and heights of joy the close family and followers of Christ experienced all those years ago? I cannot answer that. I cannot even begin to fathom the pain I would feel in my heart to loose someone some close to me in such a way. My church does a passion play this time of year. My brother plays Jesus. Now, the followers of Christ didn't have the hindsight to see what the death on the cross would actually mean to the world. They only saw it as a confusing loss. But being able to see the act portrayed now and know what it means, if you really think about it, is heartbreaking. Especially if that person playing Jesus is your brother. Your own flesh and blood. Watching him carry a cross down an aisle and 'die' on a cross.
I know it doesn't compare. I know it can only represent a small inkling of what it was actually like. But when you experience that inkling of pain, of seeing someone so close to you being treated like that. Being hung on a cross, even though he didn't deserve it. Even putting the experience into words is hard. But it breaks your heart. I can't imagine experiencing the real thing.
A few other blogs I have found inspiring this weekend:
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