Hollow Eggs, Empty Tomb

Job 26 v 13 & 14 “By His breath the skies became fair; his hand pierced the gliding serpent. And these are but the outer fringe of His works; how faint the whisper we hear of Him! Who then can understand the thunder of His power.”

Jesus of Nazareth. The most beautiful name. It’s one thing to be born of a virgin, Son of God and Son of Man, but to follow through with the divine plan makes history as nothing else ever has or will. Spirit of the Most High God, Fire and Wind, Bread of Life, Living Water, Lamb of God hung on a cross. Perfect man died so I might live. Precious fragrance from Mary’s bottle was poured out on Him as if she knew to prepare Him for the grave. His life blood poured out for us to prepare us for everything opposite of the grave. The piercing of His hands pierced the serpent of death for once and for all. The shell of His body lay in the tomb. Briefly. A battle beyond the grave was won and the debt was paid. It is finished! It is written and it is true. Death could not hold him, the tomb could not keep him! He holds the keys of life and death and He is alive!

We don’t generally do Passover like the Jews do, but since we are also chosen and loved, every Thursday night before Good Friday we remember. This time, over paninis filled with salad and tender fillet steak we talked about God’s people held captive, the plagues, blood on the door posts and the angel of death passing over. Our little girl wanted to play pass the parcel and it was quite a profound suggestion. So long as the music plays the parcel gets passed. So long as blood of a spotless lamb was on a door post, death could not enter in. Simple rules; one just a game, the other a matter of life and death. We remembered the sea, a watery grave presented to God’s people as an alternative to the army chasing them down. Impossible. Im-pass-able. How often do we make our own plans and our own way? When a nation faced a sea of impossibility, unable to rescue themselves, they came face to face with a God who finds nothing impossible. They came to the end of themselves and to the brink of their God and His outstanding ways. The sea parted and they entered in to what had been inconceivable moments before, ocean bed and shells beneath their shoes – shoes that wouldn’t wear out for forty years because God cares and provides for sparrows and people and everything you can think of and more.

My heart is suddenly touched as I think of our family’s personal shoe story. When our first tiny boy began to walk, we got his feet measured and we bought him shoes that fitted just right and I wondered if we would always be able to keep his feet so well shod. The babies kept coming and so did the shoes. Sometimes I make a quick mental check that everyone has shoes that fit and I realise they have several pairs! Not so long ago, the baby got shoes for his birthday and days later his eldest brother did too. Another wink from God. “Your shoes will not run out.” He makes a way because He is the Way and He makes sure nothing will stop us from walking in it. I am a rigorous declutterer. Wardrobes get sorted and clothes get moved on and very little gets stored out of sentimentality, but that first little pair of Clarks has stayed because one look at them reminds me that a God who is aware of our footwear is one who can be trusted. A good Father, impeccable in all His ways.

My children have just returned from a holiday camp. The leader of one of my sons told me that right from the outset he had made a decision to be committed to my child for the long haul. He said that long after camp has ended, he will be checking in and that if my son stops replying to messages or doesn’t meet up, he will come knocking. He will come looking for him. This is not weird. This is intentional. Commitment. Connection in an age of disconnect. We might be connected to the wifi but we are losing touch with the ones we are standing next to. Who wouldn’t want to be chosen, remembered, wanted, pursued, found, known? Jesus, who ate the Passover meal with his closest friends just hours before He dragged the rugged cross to the place of His death has known us since before the womb and He wants us back. He is the One who leaves ninety-nine sheep to find the one that is missing.

The wages of sin are death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord (Romans 6 v 23). We love Christmas but do we know why? He came down, He came knocking. He said “I want you back if it means dying for you.” It’s not weird that God came down, born as a human baby to die as a man for all mankind so that the disconnect caused by our sin could be mended. Christmas means Easter. Death was the price and he didn’t hold back. A saviour; the perfect lamb without spot or blemish to take our place, His blood sealing a covenant that says death must, forever, pass over. A merciful chance for us to be born again, made right, new creations. We are loved, sought out, fought for, died for, connected for eternity, attached to the One who says death is not the end anymore.

I have washi tape and ribbon, wrapping paper and string just waiting for the moment I might need to wrap a gift. I love a good package, and usually the wrapping brings as much joy as choosing what is actually within. The other night my teenage son wrapped a gift for his teenage friend’s birthday using a brown paper bag (not bad) sealed up with black insulation tape (speechless). He was content with things and I was desperately asking if he’d like my gift-wrapping services as he made his way out the door. I tell this light-hearted story to make a solemn point. Whatever the wrapping, there is a gift within. The gift must be received and unwrapped and taken hold of. The packaging is of little consequence in the end.

So much chocolate this weekend. Such pretty eggs all wrapped up and shiny, but for two thousand years the empty tomb has been echoing the undeniable truth that we are loved and chosen, fought for and paid for. Connection, freedom, healing, forgiveness, cleansing and life in abundance are ours for the taking through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Why would we not unwrap this priceless gift? This is no game, this is a matter of life and death.

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