Did dew sit freshly on the plants on the path to the tomb? Did the women talk on their way to anoint his body with spices or was the grief too thick in their chests to speak? What kind of stunned silence still held the disciples tongues as they hid? Was there a biting breeze in the air or had the sun already begun to warm Jerusalem? Did the anticipation of a miracle hang tangibly on the air or was it just a day--a day like any other?
The stone was rolled away. The burial linens lay in an empty tomb. A dead man was alive again. A Savior had conquered the grave. And, a week later, when he appeared again to his disciples, it is no small thing that the words he chose to greet them with were, "Peace be with you!"
Peace. Achievable because he defeated sin and offered us eternal life with him. Peace through the salvation he presents to us, free of charge, if we only accept him as the Lord of our lives.
Romans 5:1-2 "Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God."
I think Saturday was filled with grief and sorrow and pain and questions and wailing. And while I don't believe that the grief miraculously vanished overnight, I think Sunday was different. Perhaps the sun came out and they felt an inexplicable peace. Then, suddenly, shockingly for most, the news came that he'd risen from the dead.
Matthew 28:6 "He is not here; he has risen, just as he said..."
Just as he said. It is all just as he said. That Sunday made it so. He is risen.
He is risen, indeed.