<u>A New Morning.</u>
It was near the dawning of a new morning, the morning of a new day
destined to be a great day. While yet dark there come a number of women
out of the city gate toward the tomb where Jesus' body had been laid. They
carry spices and ointment. With woman's ever tender thoughtfulness they
are bent upon some kindly service for that precious body. They had
followed up the burial and noted the arrangements with a view to this
morning's early service. Their whole thought is absorbed with a tomb and a
body and a bit of loving attention. They wonder as they come along whom
they can get to roll the heavy stone over into its groove at the side of
the opening. Mary Magdalene is in the lead. With her in the darkness is
her friend Mary, the mother of John and James. Others come along a little
behind, in small groups.
As they get near to the place the keen eyes of Mary Magdalene notice at
once with a quick start that the stone is rolled away. Somebody has been
tampering with the tomb in the night. Leaving her companion, she starts
back on a run into the city and finds Peter, and tells him that the Lord
has been taken away, and they don't know where He has been laid. Peter,
too, is startled. He gets John, and the two start back on a run.
Meanwhile the other women have gone on toward the tomb. As they approach
they are startled and awed to find a man there, with the glorious
appearance of an angel, sitting upon the stone. To these awe-stricken
women this angel being quietly said, "Do not be afraid. I know you are
looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here. He is risen, as He
told you. Come and see the place where He lay." And as they gaze with wide
open eyes, he adds, "Go quickly and tell His disciples, and be sure you
tell Peter, that He is risen from the dead, and lo, He goeth before you
into Galilee. You will meet Him there. Lo, I have told you." But the women
were panic-stricken, and ran away down the road, and told no one except
some of the apostles. And to them their story seemed ridiculous. They
refused to believe such talk.
And now Peter and John come breathless to the tomb. John is in the lead.
Either he is younger or swifter of foot. As he comes up he stops at the
opening of the tomb, and, with a bit of reverential awe, gazes within. He
can see the linen cloths lying; but the body they had encased is clearly
not in them. Peter comes up, and steps at once inside for a closer
inspection. There the linen cloths are, just as they had enswathed the
body, but flattened down, showing the absence of anything inside their
folds. The napkin that had been about the head was folded up neatly and
laid over to one side. Then John enters, and as he continues looking
conviction comes to him that Jesus has indeed risen. Wondering greatly at
this thing, wholly unexpected by them, they go off to their homes in the
city.
And now another little group of the women come up, and are perplexed in
turn as the others, the stone away, the body of Jesus not there. As they
stand with staring eyes and fearing hearts, two men unexpectedly appear in
clothing that dazzles the women's eyes. Frightened, they bow down before
these men, who seem to be angels. But the men quickly reassure them with
their words. Why were they seeking a living One in a tomb? Jesus was not
there. He was risen. And they remind the women of Jesus' own words about
being killed and then rising again. As the men talk the women remember the
Master's words, and wonderingly see their meaning now, and hurry away to
tell their friends the great news.
<u>Jesus Seeking Out Peter.</u>
And now Mary Magdalene has gotten back to the tomb. In her zeal for the
safety of that precious body, she had made quite a journey into the city
and back. Her zeal took her quickly to Peter. Her sorrow makes the way
back longer. She had been first to come, but had not heard the news that
came to her companions. Now she stands at the open tomb weeping. She
stoops and looks in to see if it can be really true that _He_ is not
there. To her surprise two angel beings are seated, one at each end of
where Jesus' body had been lying. They say to her, "Why are you weeping?"
She replies, "Because they have taken away _my Lord_, and I know not where
they have laid Him." Turning back in her grief as the words are spoken,
she sees some one else standing. Again the same question by this One. Why
was she weeping? Whom was she looking for? Her eyes are blinded with the
rain of tears. This is likely the man in charge of the garden wherein this
family tomb was.
With earnest tones she says, "Sir, if _thou_ didst carry Him away, tell me
where thou didst lay Him and _I_ will have Him taken away." Then that one
word came to her ears, her name, in that unmistakable voice, "Mary."
Quicker than a flash came the response, "_Oh, my Master_!" That same
wondrous, quiet voice continues, "Do not continue to be clinging to Me. I
am not yet ascended to my Father. Be going to my brethren and tell them I
ascend to My Father and your Father, My God and your God." And Mary
quickly departs on her glad errand for Him. She was the first to see His
face and hear His voice, and have her hand upon His person, and do
something at His bidding.
And now the other women who had been at the tomb in the garden and fled
away are on the road approaching the city. As they hurry along, to their
utter amazement--here is Jesus in the road approaching them. With a glad
smile in His eyes, the old, sweet voice speaks out in rich tones the usual
simple salutation of greeting, "Good morning." At once they are down on
their knees and faces, holding His feet and worshipping. And Jesus softly
says, "Do not be afraid. Go tell my brethren to meet Me in Galilee, up by
the old blue waters of the sea."
While these incidents were occurring, all in such short time, something
else is going on of a different sort. The Roman soldiers guarding that
tomb had had a great shock. They had been suddenly displaced by another
guard. The sacred Roman seal had been ruthlessly broken, the stone rolled
back from the opening, and some one sat upon it. Their bewildered,
stupefied senses heard the movements and were aware of a strange, blinding
light. Then they knew that the body they were to guard was no longer
within. That was about as much as they could get together. They hurry to
town and tell the chief priests. Quickly the chief priests gather their
clique to confer about this new phase. Was there ever such mulish
obstinacy? No thought of candid investigation seems to enter their mind.
The way of covering this new difficulty is after all easy. Money will buy
the soldiers, and they will do as they are bid. It took a good bit of
gold. The soldiers probably were keen to know how to work so good a mine.
And the story was freely circulated that the body was stolen while the
soldiers slept.
Peter has gone down the road from the garden toward the city after having
satisfied Himself that Jesus was not in the tomb. He was _wondering_ what
all this meant. John, lighter of foot, had hurried ahead to his home in
the city, very likely to tell the news to Jesus' mother, his own new
mother. Peter plods slowly along. There is no need of haste now. He is
thinking, wondering, thinking. It was still early morning, with the sweet
dew on the ground, and the air so still. Down past some big trees maybe he
was walking, deeply absorbed, when--Somebody is by his side. It is the
Master! But we must leave them alone together. That was a sacred
interview, meant only for Peter.
<u>Made Known in the Breaking of Bread.</u>
The news now quickly spread; the two stories, that of the soldiers, that
of the disciples. Folks listened to the one they preferred. Everybody was
discussing this new startling appendix to the crucifixion. A bit later in
the day two others were walking along one of the country roads leading out
of the city, toward a village a few miles away. They jog along slowly as
men who are heavy footed with disappointment. They are intently absorbed
in conversation, eagerly discussing and questioning about something that
clearly puzzled them.
A Stranger, unrecognized, overtakes them and joins in their conversation.
He asks, "What is this that you are so concerned about?" So absorbed are
they with their thoughts, that at His question they stand still, looking
sad and unable for a moment to answer. Where would they begin where there
was so much? Then one of them says, "Do you lodge by yourself in the city,
and even then do not know the things that have been going on there?" The
Stranger draws them out. "What things?" He says. Thus encouraged, they
find relief in unburdening their hearts. It was all about Jesus, a man of
great power in word and deed, before God and all the people; the great
cruelty with which the rulers had secured a sentence of death for
Him--and--crucified--Him.
"We were, however, hoping," they said, "that He was the One who was about
to redeem the nation. And now it is the third day since these things
occurred. And most surprising word was brought by certain women that has
greatly stirred us. They went early to the tomb, and did not find His
body, but saw a vision of angels who positively said that He was alive.
And some of our party went there and found it true as the women said.
But--they did not see _Him_."
Then the Stranger began speaking in a quiet, earnest way that caught them
at once. "O foolish men, so slow you are in heart to believe the messages
of the old prophets! Was it not needful that the Christ should suffer
these very things and to enter into His glory?" Then He began freely to
quote passages from all through their sacred writings. As they walk along
listening to this wonderful explanation, which now sounds so simple from
this Man's lips, they come up to their home in the village. The Stranger
seemed inclined to go on. But they earnestly urge Him to come in and get
some refreshment and stay over night. He may talk more. They have heard no
such winsome talk since Jesus was with them.
He yields. And, as they gather over the simple evening meal, the Stranger
picks up the loaf, and looking up repeats the simple grace, and breaking
the loaf reaches the pieces over. But as their hands go out for the bread,
their eyes turn toward the Stranger's face. Instantly they are
spell-bound--_that face_--why--it is the _Master!!_ Then He is not there.
And they said to each other, "Did you ever hear such talking?" "My heart
was burning all the time He was talking." "And mine, too." Then they
hasten back to the city. Those miles are so much shorter now! They go
straight to the house where they have been meeting.
"_Even So Send I You_."
Here were gathered most of the apostles and several others. Eagerly they
were discussing the exciting news of the day. Some _know_ that Jesus has
risen. Mary Magdalene, with eyes dancing, says, "I _saw_ Him." But some
are full of doubt and questionings. How _could_ it be? The door is
guarded, for if the frenzy of the national leaders should spread, _they_
come next. There's a knock at the door. Cautiously it is opened. Two dusty
but radiant faces appear. "The Lord is risen _indeed_," they exclaim. And
then they tell the story of the afternoon and His wondrous explanation and
of that meal.
As they are talking, all at once--who's that?--right in their midst. It
looks like Jesus. There is that face with those unmistakable marks. And
you can see their eyes quickly searching between the sandal straps. Yes,
it looks like Him. But it can't be. Their eyes befool them. It's been a
hard day for them. It must be a spirit. As they start back, there comes in
that voice they can never forget, the old quiet "Good evening."--"Peace
unto you." Then He holds out His hands and feet, saying, "Do not be
troubled--it is I Myself--handle Me, and make sure. A spirit does not have
flesh and bones as you see that I have." Then He said, "Have you something
to eat?" and He ate a bit of broiled fish.
Reassured by such simple practical evidence, a glad peace fills their
hearts and faces. They talk together a bit. Then Jesus rising, said again,
"Peace unto you--as the Father hath sent Me, even so send I you." Then He
breathed strongly upon them, saying in very quiet, solemn tones, "Receive
ye the Holy Spirit--Whosesoever sins ye forgive they are forgiven.
Whosesoever ye retain they are retained." And again, as they look, He is
not there.
But one man was absent that new Sabbath evening hour. Thomas simply could
not believe, and would not, without the most sane, common-sense evidence.
He missed much by not being at that meeting. The next Sabbath evening he
is present with the others. Again the Master comes as before, unexpectedly
standing in their midst, as they talk together about Him. And now Thomas
is fully satisfied after his week of doubting. Some of us folks will
always be grateful for Thomas.
Some time later, there occurs that second wondrous draught of fishes, at
the command of the unrecognized Stranger, one morning at the breaking of
the day, and the talk with Peter and the others as they walk along the old
shore of the sea. And to James, who seems to have been a leader by dint of
a strong personality, He appears.
And one day when there was an unusually large meeting of His followers, as
many as five hundred, He came as before and was recognized. And then at
the last upon Olives' top came the goodbye meeting and message.
It is surely worthy of remark that the Bethany home is not represented at
either cross or tomb. Many of His dear friends are named in connection
with both, but not these. Here are some of those dearest to Him, and to
whom He is most dear. Here is one, a woman, who had discerned more keenly
ahead than any other that He was to die and why. She had understood the
minor strains of the old Hebrew oratorio as none other. She had learned
at His feet. And here, too, was one who knew death, and the life beyond,
and then a return again to this life. It was not indifference that kept
them away. They loved tenderly, and were tenderly loved. Their absence is
surely most significant. Mary's ointment had already been used. This
morning in glad ecstasy of spirit she and her brother and sister wait.
_They know._
<u>Gravity Upward.</u>
Two things stand out very clearly about Jesus' resurrection. It was not
expected by these followers, but received at first with incredulity and
doubt and stubborn unwillingness to accept it without clear undisputable
proof. And then that they were thoroughly satisfied that He was actually
back again with them, with His personal identity thoroughly established;
so satisfied that their lives were wholly controlled by the consciousness
of a risen Jesus. Sacrifice, suffering, torture, and violent death were
yielded to gladly for His sake.
A new morning broke that morning, the morning of a new day, a new sort of
day. That resurrection day became a new day to them and to all Jesus'
followers. The old Sabbath day was a _rest_-day. God Sabbathed from His
work of creation. This new day is more, it is a _victory_-day. Every new
coming of it spells out Jesus' victory over sin and death and our victory
in Him. The old Hebrew rest-day came at the week's close. The new
victory-day comes at the week's beginning. With the fine tingle of
victory in our spirits we are ever at the beginning of a new life and new
victory and great things to come.
Did Jesus rise? Or, was He raised? Both are said of Him. Both are true. He
was raised by the power of the Father. Every bit of His human life was
under the direction and control of His Father. Every act of His from first
to last was in the strength of the Father. This last act was so. The
Father's vindication of His Son was seen in the power that raised Him up
from out of the domain of death. He was raised.
_Jesus rose_ from the dead. The action was in accord with the law of His
life. He rose at will by the moral gravity of His character. He had gone
down, now He lets Himself rebound up. The language used of His death is
very striking. No one of the four descriptions of the death upon the cross
says that He _died_. The words commonly used to describe the death of
others are not used of Jesus. Very different language is used. Matthew
says, "He dismissed His spirit." Mark and Luke each say, "He breathed out"
His life. John says, "He delivered up His spirit."
His dying was voluntary. Not only the time of it and the manner of it, but
the fact of it was of His own choosing. The record never suggests that
death overcame Him. He yielded to it of His own strong accord. He was not
overcome by death. He could not be, for sin having no hold within His
being, death could have none. Physical death is one of the logical results
of the sin within. Jesus yielded up His spirit. It was a free, voluntary
act. He had explained months before that so it would be. "I lay down My
life that I may take it again. No man taketh it from Me, but I lay it down
of Myself. I have the power to lay it down, and I have the power to take
it again. This commandment I received from My Father." This being so, the
return to life followed the same voluntary course. Having accomplished the
purpose in dying, He now recalled His spirit into the body and rises by
His own choice.
Man's true gravity is toward a center upward. Sin's gravity is toward a
center downward. When an ordinary man, a sinful man, dies, he is overcome
by the logical result of the sin in himself. He is overcome by the moral
gravity downward of His sin. He has no choice. His own moral gravity apart
from sin is upward. But that is overbalanced by the downward pull of the
sin ingrained in his very being. And this quite apart from his attitude
toward the sin.
In Jesus there was no sin. Being free of it, He rose at will. "It was not
possible that He should be held by death," for it had no hold upon Him.
His gravity was upward. For a purpose, a great strong purpose, He yielded
to death's embrace. Now that purpose being achieved, He quietly lets
Himself up toward the natural center of gravity of His life.
<u>The Life Side of Death.</u>
Clearly Jesus' body had undergone changes through death and resurrection.
It is the same to outer appearance, so far as _personal identity_ is
concerned. The doubting, questioning disciples handle His person, they
know His face, they recognize His voice. He eats with them and talks with
them and moves in their midst as before. Even the doubter, stubborn in his
demand for tangible, physical evidence, is convinced by the feel of his
hands that this is indeed Jesus back again. Further, He moves about among
them unrecognized till He chooses to be known. Yet this may have been His
power over them rather than any changed quality in His person.
But mark that the limitations of space and of material obstructions are
gone after the resurrection. He no longer needs to get that body through
space by physical strength or management, but seems to go where He will by
choosing to be there. He is no longer affected in His movements by the
walls of a building or other such material obstruction, but comes and goes
at will. The arrangement of the linen cloths in the tomb, as marked so
keenly by Peter and John, is significant. They are found lying as they
were when enfolding that body, as though He had in rising risen up through
them.
Clearly the body is the same so far as personal identity is concerned. But
the limitations are gone. The control of spirit over body seems full,
without any limitations. As one of us can, _in spirit,_ be in a place far
removed as quick as thought, so He seems to have been able to be
_actually_, bodily, where He wanted to be as quickly. All the old powers
remain. All the old limitations are gone, never to return. Jesus had moved
over to the life side of death. He had gone down into death's domain,
given it a death blow, and then risen up into a new Eden life, where
neither sin nor death had power to touch. Those forty days were sample
days of the new Eden life on earth.
Jesus has become the leader of a new sort of life lived on the earth,
mingling in its activities, but free of its power, _controlled from
above_. He asks every one who will to come along after Him. We can, for He
has. It is possible, because of Him. We may, for He asks us to. It is our
privilege. Let us go.