Matthew 28:5The angel spoke to the women: "There is nothing to fear here. I know you're looking for Jesus, the One they nailed to the cross. He is not here. He was raised, just as he said. Come and look at the place where he was placed.
I can sum up what the cross means to me in one word-relatability. Even though it is a great symbol of hope and comfort to every Christian, to me it's as if Jesus himself is saying, "I've been there."
I hope I could worship a God who hadn't been here. I hope I could see enough in his creation to know him and to trust him and to love him. I hope I could, but I don't know that for sure.
I have great empathy for those of the Old Testament. So often their only picture of God was one of wrath and anger. They were so focused on sacraficing animals and keeping track of their sins that they had no time to fall madly in love with their creator. What wonderful relief it must have been for those people who lived in between times, who got to experience the veil being torn and a relationship born.
I don't understand exactly why God's plan had to play out the way it did, and as creation it is not my job to understand, but I'm glad I live today. I'm glad I live in a country where if I wanted to spray paint my house with Jesus is Lord-I could. The metal cross that hangs on my front door is safe there. The cross I wear around my neck will not get me killed. The bible in my car, in my purse, at work-no one is upset that I have them. This week I will read Max Lucado's new book Cast of Characters at the Dr., at the gym or wherever else I may go, no one will say a word to me about it except to say, "I didn't know his new book was out." They won't be mad or offended or throw stones at me in the parking lot.
And when life doesn't turn out the way I'd hoped in big things and little things and everything in between, the cross reminds me that he's been here. He faced disappointment, discouragement, lonliness, depression, fear, and temptation. He walked these roads and looked up at the same sun and moon and stars. He wondered about his future and contemplated his past. He was homesick for Heaven-oh how I can relate.
I wish we could take short trips to heaven, but I know we'd never come back. But today I'd like to scoot on up there and have a cup of coffee with the Son of God. I've got some things I would love to discuss with him and mostly I want to hear his heart. I wish with a single touch he could say Be whole be healed be free and I'd stay that way for the rest of my life. I wish Earth didn't get in the way of the freedom I feel when I'm with him.
For now, the cross is our common ground. I'll never be worthy of his death for me, but everytime I see it I remember how blessed I am that even that horrible day, he saw me. And he saw you. And we were worth it.