Easter Sunday! 5 am, the alarm rang, and the day began. After three worship services a church breakfast and family dinner, by 5 pm, it was time to relax a bit. Everyone had gone home by then, and I sat down to write some letters for Keryx. At 9 pm, the special TV series on the book of Acts debuted; I was determined to watch it, and am glad I did. There was one scene that took me by surprise. After Jesus' crucifixion, Joseph of Arimathea requested the body of Jesus for burial, which request was granted. It was a dangerous move both by Joseph, and by Pilate. Had he refused this request, the body would have remained on the cross to decay and be devoured by carrion-feeding birds. This would have closed the door to any talk of resurrection. Pilate's action was inadvertently (on his part) a crucial piece of the puzzle, setting the stage for the resurrection.
But the scene that really caught my attention was Mary and the other women washing Jesus' body for burial, followed by their washing their hands of his blood. We use the expression, "His blood is on our hands," meaning that it was our sins that put him on the cross. But Jesus' blood was literally on the hands of those who loved him most--his mother, Mary Magdalene, and perhaps a few others. It is one thing for his blood to be on my hands due to my sin; it is quite another for this to be so because of my faithfulness and love. May it be from this day on, the latter. Tonight, I am grateful that his blood was shed for us, and that he has risen from the dead, giving to all who believe the possibility that his blood could be on our hands for love of him instead of for our sins.
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