"From Tears to Reign"

You step across cracked stone tiles on the same path you’ve always taken when you enter the main corridor of the open-air marketplace. A gust of wind whips through the hallway, scattering dried spring flowers and leaves about your feet. Chilled, you wrap your woven shawl over your shoulders for warmth.
  
        In your satchel you carry scarves and a tunic you have woven by hand to take to a merchant. In trade for your woven goods, you hope to find a selection of fruit and grain for your family's meals. However, when you arrive at the vendor’s location, he is not there. His shop is closed.   
 
        Searching for another vendor with household goods, you find they, too, are shut down. You look down the breezeway. What has happened? The market is usually bustling with people, but now, only a few vendors remain open, and the hallways are nearly vacant.   

        The echo of gates closing and locking chains ruminates throughout the venue. The emptiness is eerie. Even the air carries with it a feeling of melancholy. You stand still. You look. You listen. In the distance, you hear the roar of a crowd.

        A woman carrying a small basket rushes by. She looks familiar. You run to catch up to her. “Excuse me,” you call out. “I think I know you..." 
 
        The woman stops, then pauses. “Johanna?”
        "Yes! And you're...Priscilla?”
        She nods.   
        “I remember you. It was that day at the river when Jesus spoke." 
       
        “Yes, of course,” Priscilla replied. Her eyes glistened, but Johanna noticed a sadness in her expression.    

        “I didn't mean to hold you up. I just don't understand why the marketplace is so empty..."

        "Oh, dear," Priscilla replied. She began to pace. "You haven't heard the news, have you?" 

        “What news?” you ask.

        Priscilla drew in a deep breath and adjusted the scarf covering her gray locks. “The Roman soldiers captured Jesus. They beat him terribly," she said, her voice quivering. "He is being forced to carry his own cross to Golgotha. Do you hear the crowds? I believe Jesus is near! If you wish to come with me, please do so quickly." 
   
     “Yes, I want to go!" you reply. Your mind swirls with mixed emotions. You want to see Jesus; yet, you don't want to see him suffering. But you go, sprinting behind the woman through the walkways of the vacated market. Reaching the street, you line up behind the crowd, then strain your neck to see as you stand on your tiptoes. 

         Figures approach in the distance. “Could that be him?" you ask.         
        “It’s hard to tell. Possibly," Priscilla answers. Noise from the crowd intensifies.

        Then, you see him! It's Jesus! You gasp. He is hunched beneath the weight of a thick, heavy wooden cross which he must balance over one shoulder, while the foot of the cross drags in the dirt. His face and scalp are bloodied from the crown of thorns, and gaping wounds and blood cover his back.

        “What have they done to him?" you cry. 

        “The soldiers used spiked whips,” a man said. “It causes the flesh to tear.”

        You feel suddenly nauseous and dizzy. Priscilla grabs your arm to steady you. She has been crying, too, her green eyes watery and puffy. You regain your balance, take a few deep breaths, and adjust the satchel over your shoulder.

        Your are reminded of your handwoven items as you look at Jesus and notice how stained, soiled, and bloody his garment has become. How you wish you could comfort him! If only you could provide him with a fresh, new tunic, something soft and clean that would help protect his gaping wounds and absorb the profuse perspiration on his skin. But there is nothing you can do. Except pray.

        Sobs intensify, but the loudest wailing comes from the dark-haired woman kneeling at the edge of the street. With outstretched arms, she cries out to Jesus in Aramaic.

         “It's Mary, the mother of Jesus," a woman whispers.

         Oh, poor Mary! What heartbreak to see her son suffer! 

        But not everyone is tearful. Hateful, angry voices emerge from the crowd—some shouting profanity, others mocking Jesus, and some spitting at him.

        When Jesus’ breathing turns ragged and he begins to crumple beneath the weight of the cross, you can scarcely stand it. Then, a man steps in to help.

        "It's Simon of Cyrene," someone says.

        The good man helps steady the cross for Jesus, so he is able to regain his footing. Jesus' steps were still haggard, but he kept going, even when the road to Golgotha became steep.

        Finally, you must turn away and not look, for your heart has brimmed with the deepest of sorrow.  How could they do this to Jesus? The Son of God. Condemned. Ridiculed. Scourged. And soon, Roman soldiers would nail his hands and feet to the cross to die. Next to him, on either side, would be two thieves hanging on crosses of their own.

        Oh, the gloom and darkness of this day! The horror, the tragedy, the injustice!

        You cannot bear to follow the crowd to Golgotha. You know what will take place there. You, Priscilla, and other women remain. The air feels strangely heavy, and you wonder if the land itself is grieving with sadness and despair.

        Then, at Noon, the sky suddenly turns dark. Dear God above, what is happening? It feels like night. Fearful, you and the other women flee to a nearby home of one of the women. You can still hear the clamoring of the crowd gathered on the hill. Then, you hear the loudest of cries and wailing. Moments later, the ground begin to shake!

        Filled with fear and trembling, you and the others take cover. Hiding beneath a table, you lift your head to look out the window. Rocks are splitting in half along the hillside!

        Truly, the God of Creation has responded to all that has taken place! 

        Finally, when all has become quiet and the darkness subsides, you and the other come out from hiding. You bid farewell to your friend and the other women, and vow to meet up again. With tear-stained faces, you retreat in silence.

        Exhausted and weak, you trudge home through the vacant marketplace and down the dirt embankment to your abode. You feel like crying, but you have no tears left to shed. You remind yourself to think differently. 

        Be strong. Remember Jesus’ teachings. Love as He loved. Let others know about him! 

        That night, racked with sorrow, you sleep little, but you pray fervently for Mary, her family, for the Disciples, and all who are in mourning for Jesus. Finally, you sleep. Then, in the wee hours of the morning, you awake suddenly as a message comes to your heart. You cannot see beyond this moment, but things will change. 
       
        Was this message meant to be an answer to prayer to ease your sorrow? What does it mean, that things will change? 
 
        Soon, you will learn the truth.

        Three days later, Mary Magdalene, Mary, the mother of James, and Salome took spices to anoint Jesus’ body at the tomb (Matthew 28:5-6). Imagine their surprise, shock, and confusion when they found the stone rolled away to Jesus’ tomb. He was not there! An angel appeared and told them not to be frightened, for Jesus was not there. He had been raised from the dead. The resurrection had taken place!

        After his crucifixion, Jesus appeared to the Disciples various times. Then, they understood what He had been trying to tell them all along, that He would die, but that He would be resurrected.

        The good news of Jesus Christ spread! And here we are, over two thousands years later. The good news of Jesus Christ lives: Jesus died on the cross for your sins and mine. He is our Savior, our Lord, our Salvation!

        The events that led up to the resurrection were sad, dark, and solemn, but on the third day, when Jesus’ resurrection took place, grief gave way to joy and gladness. Truly, the Easter story is a journey from "Tears to Reign," and Jesus reigns forever!  

        Alleluia! He is Risen! Happy Easter! 
                                                                                    ><<><<><<>< 
A bit of Easter trivia (courtesy of Google):      
1).Why is “Good Friday” called “Good?”
2).Where does the word, “Easter,” come from?
 
Answers:
1).”Good Friday” is a sorrowful and dark time. However, it is referred to as “Good” because of it’s positive outcome (Jesus rising from the dead on the third day). “Good” also refers to holiness and sacredness.
2).The word, “Easter,” originated in the second century with the celebration of the resurrection. The Greek word, “Pascha,” is similar to the Hebrew word, “pesach,” meaning “Passover.”  
Other languages that use a similar word for Easter: Spanish-Pascua; Italian-Pasqua; French-Pâques; Portuguese-Páscoa; Finnish-Paasiainen; Welsh-Pasg; Swedish/Norwegian/Danish-Paske. 

Photo: Courtesy of Vecteezy.com

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