The hours after and Day Before

 I  have always loved Holy Week.  Now, after last year, this week has taken on a whole new meaning. The days remembering Jesus' ride into Jerusalem, the day He shared the Passover with his disciples, the night in the Garden of Gethsemane, His beating and finally the crucifixion should make a Christian very uncomfortable.  They do me, realizing exactly what He endured for me.  For some reason today I woke up with something on my heart that has never occurred to me.  I watched a little of Passion of the Christ last night and have been watching my favorite, Jesus of Nazareth.  When I woke up this morning I couldn't help but think of those that watched all of this unwind in front of their eyes.  I can hardly stand the thought of what if I had  been there to watch it all unfold.  I watched for the 3rd time in horror how they depicted Jesus brutal abuse and the crucifixion during Passion of the Christ.  I can't help but hurt and cry every time I see it.  For some reason this year the thoughts of being there watching it is almost unbearable.  My thoughts carry me to the hours of the crucifixion watching Jesus cry out, " Eli, Eli, Lama Sabacthani?" "My God, My God, why has Thou forsaken Me?"   Knowing full well, that I too, would have been having my doubts, wondering why He couldn't save himself, wondering why He let it get this far, if He was, indeed, the Son of God.  Also, thinking He continues to cry out to His Father while being crucified and questioning all of that.  Then I think of what I would have felt had I watched Him take His last breath.  After witnessing death last year I can honestly say that its something you don't forget, not that Shane's death was anywhere near the brutalness of Jesus.  However, seeing someone you love take their last breath is something that is embedded in your mind.
I can only imagine how the Mary's and his followers felt... helpless.  I know I did watching Shane.  Knowing full well what the outcome was but not being able to do anything to stop or make things better for the one enduring the suffering.  I can only imagine, as a mother, the strength Mary had to keep from climbing up on the cross to hold her Son as she watched Him leave her. 

Then I think of all of those that had doubted and accused Jesus.  I can only imagine how they felt experiencing the veil of the temple being torn from top to bottom and experiencing the earth quake
and watching tombs open, and Saints raised.  All the while realizing, that when a common man dies, these things do not happen.  I can almost feel their embarrassment and their shame, almost like when you are told something is going to happen and you totally dismiss it.  The feeling of wishing you had believed and knowing there is absolutely nothing you can do to change things now. I think of how Mary Magdalene must have felt when she went to tell the disciples what Jesus had told to share with them after seeing Him, how they probably looked at her like she was a little bit crazy. Almost like some of the looks I receive when I tell people the story of Shane's last 10, they want to believe it but its hard too when you were not there.  Finally, knowing how His 12 must have felt when He finally appeared to them.  Imagine the embarrassment and guilt they must have felt by not believing that everything He had been telling them was true.  I can just hear John saying while hitting his hand to his forehead 3 times..."stupid stupid man I am, He told me that this would happen and I sooooo thought He was crazy, even though I watched Him perform so many miracles, raise people from the dead and I still didn't believe Him."  I chuckle a little when I think of the men walking to Emmaus (Luke 24: 13), how they must have felt when realizing this man that they were talking and walking with and discussing was Jesus Himself.  One of those duhhhhh moments. 
All brings me back to present day.  Jesus has put it all out there for us all to either believe in Him or deny Him.  As I think of all these feelings all of those probably felt watching the crucifixion and the hours after, or should have felt, I think of those that continually deny who He is today.  I can not even imagine what those will be feeling when He comes back and some are left behind.  Then, it will be too late to hit their head 3 times and say, "Dang, I should have believed and accepted Him when I had the chance.  Now I will have eternity in Hell to beat myself up for not believing in Him." 

My sister recently sent me an article by Max Lucado and his thoughts on the realness of hell, you can read it here...http://www.maxlucado.com/articles/excerpts/hells_supreme_surprise.  She said she thought I would enjoy the end of the article where Lucado compared the death experiences of a believer and a non-believer and how she thought of Shane's final 10.  He said that the unbeliever was an atheist and wanted no mention of Jesus even on her deathbed.  He mentions how at the end of her life she was heard by her family while barely conscious and talking to someone only she could see, "You don't know me? You don't know me?" she asked. Was she talking to Jesus?  Maybe she was wishing she had paid attention to Matthew 7:23 "I never knew you; depart from me."  Then I think of Shane and his total belief in Jesus Christ and how he unashamedly proclaimed his love for Him and how, during final 10, saw peace, eagerness and willingness to enter in to Heaven's door.  Shane never had to ask, "You don't know me?" when he came face to face with Jesus.

So today, the hours after Good Friday and the hours before Resurrection Sunday, I pray that those that question and deny who HE is, will come to know Him and I pray that I can show someone Who HE is through something I say or do.   It will be me who is ashamed and wishing I had done differently if I don't share the Good News that HE LIVES!!!!  Praying that all of us that do believe in Him are remembering in what he endured for you on the Cross and will be rejoicing in knowing that HE LIVES, indeed.  Hallelujah and Amen!!