A hard time we had since the night in the Garden. Trying to sleep while our teacher prayed in the distance, And then the torches. He was arrested, taken and tried, no one spoke up for Him. Bleary eyed and terrified we mingled with the crowd In Pilate’s courtyard, we choked back our urge to yell “Give us Barrabus!” And we wept, felt empty, we were utterly hollow. We followed the procession of the Cross to Golgotha and remained in the distance, frightened. We heard the hammer strike, the nails piercing Through flesh and through wood. We heard His anguished cry, He turned and looked Right at me, but I could do nothing. And then, as he hung there, we crept closer And saw the utter horror of it all. His head was bowed, but He turned and Looked through us to eternity. When it was over, After the darkness, We hid in shame. Shame and fear. How could we have been so deceived? We saw the miracles, yes, we saw the healing, We heard the wisdom and felt the love, but we did Not understand. We were not Eastermen, yet. Then, dawn and dew lifting and another curiosity. A miracle? Perhaps. A stone rolled back and burial cloths, Like preparation for a feast, neatly folded. I think back now, it was so confusing. Women running to us proclaiming visions. But then, on the road to Emmaus, My heart was filled with fire, And I came to believe. Oh, I had believed before…I had seen The loaves and the fishes, but this, This was beyond that. This was life and light Love and promise. We spent those days with Him, learning How to cope with Heaven come to Earth. Then the day came for Him to leave, the task Was ours now. In the days that followed he sent us the Paraclete, And our heads were filled with unquenchable fire. It was ours to claim and proclaim this Heaven, To the ends of the Earth.
I hope everyone has a blessed Easter…our work is far from done!