Christ died for our sins, just as the Scriptures said. He was buried, and he was raised from the dead on the third day, just as the Scriptures said. He was seen by Peter and then by the Twelve. After that, he was seen by more than 500 of his followers at one time, most of whom are still alive, though some have died. Then he was seen by James and later by all the apostles. Last of all, as though I had been born at the wrong time, I also saw him. [1 Corinthians 15:3-8 (NLT)]
Found in almost every Roman Catholic church (and some Protestant and Orthodox ones), are the Stations of the Cross—a series of fourteen icons or carvings on the walls—each of which depict a moment in the Passion of Christ. Created to help people contemplate the events leading up to Christ’s crucifixion, they start with His death sentence from Pilate and end with His dead and battered body being laid in the tomb. Because Good Friday and Jesus’ death aren’t the end of the story, some churches have begun adding the resurrected Christ as a 15th station.
More recently, the idea of “Stations of the Resurrection” has taken hold in both Roman Catholic and Protestant traditions. While the Stations of the Cross depict just one day in the life of Christ, the Stations of the Resurrection illustrate the 50 days of Eastertide. There is no official list of “stations” but they usually begin with the angel speaking to the women at the empty tomb. They continue through the days Jesus remained on earth showing events like Jesus on the road to Emmaus and His appearance to the disciples on Easter, as well as His appearances to Thomas, the disciples on the shore, and the 500 mentioned by Paul. After portraying Jesus’ Ascension on the 40th day, the “stations” conclude either with the Holy Spirit’s descent on the 50th day (Pentecost) or Jesus’ appearance to Paul on the road to Damascus.
Having spent the season of Lent spiritually preparing for Good Friday and Easter Sunday, we shouldn’t need the Stations of the Cross or those of the Resurrection to help us remember Christ’s suffering, death, and rising from the dead. Nevertheless, once we put away the Easter baskets, we may not give Easter another thought until the following year. Easter, however, is more than one day; it is a liturgical season called Eastertide. Lasting for seven weeks, it concludes with Pentecost. Why not spend these weeks reading about and meditating on those 50 days in the gospels and Acts. Imagine the shock of finding an empty tomb. What was it like for Cleopas when he realized the stranger with whom he’d walked, talked, and broken bread was the resurrected Messiah? If you’d been one of His frightened followers hiding in a locked room, how would you react to seeing Jesus miraculously appear? Visualize seeing the scars on His hands and feet. What was it like to have breakfast with Him on the beach and to walk with Him, hear His voice, and witness His miracles once again? Can you imagine watching Jesus ascend into Heaven? Picture what it was like that 50th day on Pentecost when the disciples were filled with the power of the Holy Spirit. Consider how Peter, the one who denied Christ three times, became the one who boldly proclaimed Him “Lord and Messiah.” The Easter story doesn’t end at Easter, or even at Pentecost; it continues to unfold today!
Christ’s resurrection is the most powerful world-shaping event in history. It is why we are freed from our sins and live in hope not fear! The good news of Easter is so good that we should continue to celebrate Christ’s resurrection long after the rest of the world (having eaten the last of the Peeps and chocolate rabbits) is thinking about the next holiday. Remembering Easter and the events that followed should be an important part of our spiritual lives—not just for the 50 days of Eastertide—but all year long. As Augustine of Hippo said, “We are an Easter people and Alleluia is our hymn of praise!” Let us be Easter people all year long. Alleluia!
While touring an historic house, the elaborately set dinner table reminded me of the large formal dinner parties we had in our younger (and more energetic) days. I’d start preparing the table in advance by adding extra leaves to the table, gathering the extra chairs, and ironing out the creases in the damask tablecloth. From the cupboard in the basement, I’d haul up the crystal salad plates, my mother’s Lenox china, and the hand-painted Bavarian service plates and Czechoslovakian dessert plates that were my grandmother’s. I’d spend hours polishing the silverware and serving pieces. The service plates were set out, the silverware laid, the crystal wine and water goblets carefully placed at each setting, and the napkins artfully folded. I’d set out the silver candlesticks, put in fresh candles, get flowers from the florist, and create what I hoped would be the perfect Martha Stewart-worthy table setting. There was plenty more work to do in the kitchen. I’d spend days perusing recipes, planning the menu, making lists, purchasing food, and preparing it all. I loved doing it because I loved the people for whom I did it. Nevertheless, as nice as my guests were and as much as they enjoyed themselves, I’m not sure they truly appreciated how much effort went into everything that on that table.
“Alleluia” (or “Hallelujah”), like “Amen,” is a word familiar throughout Christendom. Meaning “Praise the Lord,” it is the transliteration of the Hebrew hallel, meaning to shine, be boastful, praise, or rejoice and Yah, an abbreviated form of the name of the Lord: YHWH (Yahweh/Jehovah). Although two distinct words, they were consistently written as one (halleluyah). In the Old Testament, this extraordinary word occurs only in Psalms. Usually found at the beginning, halleluyah was an imperative call to praise or boast in the Lord—a call to shine a light upon Him! Whether we spell this beautiful word the Latin way as “alleluia” or the Greek way as “hallelujah,” the meaning is the same. Many modern translations simply translate it as “Praise the Lord!”
As I pondered my goals for this year’s Lenten practice, I remembered Alica Britt Chole’s suggestion to “consider Lent as less of a project and more of a sojourn.” While we often encounter the word ”sojourn” in Scripture, it’s not a word typically used today. Although the basic meaning of gûr, the Hebrew word translated at sojourn, is to “live, settle, dwell,” gûr usually included the sense of it being a temporary or transient stay. Typically, a sojourner was someone living outside their clan or a noncitizen in a strange place. Because of famine, Israel sojourned in Egypt for 430 years and, because of their disobedience, they sojourned forty years in the desert before entering the Promised Land. It is Jesus’ 40-day sojourn in the wilderness before entering His public ministry that is remembered in Lent.
Every evening, a man went to the local pub and ordered three beers. When asked why three, he explained that he ordered the two extra beers in honor of his two dear brothers who lived far away. One evening, when the man ordered only two beers, the bartender assumed the worst and extended sympathy for the loss of a brother. Correcting the bartender, the man said his brothers were both fit as fiddles and the beers were for them. “It’s me that’s not drinking tonight,” he explained. “You see, I’ve given up beer for Lent!”
