By Eunice Tate
Three years ago, I had the privilege of visiting Israel with a group of believers. On my visit to the tomb of Jesus, I was drawn to the sign on the tomb’s door that reads, “He Is Not Here—For He is Risen.” I thought it appropriate that the sign is positioned so that visitors can’t miss it on their way out. Consequently, any sadness I felt on entering was quickly replaced by a surge of the enduring hope I have because of the empty tomb. So though the place where The Hope of Israel was laid may seem humbling, I imagined that because we are reminded that He is not there, gives joyful hope to the millions of pilgrims who traveled every year to the Holy Land.
As a child growing up in Jamaica, in a time and culture that preached fire and brimstone, and encouraged a persona of suffering, Easter church services required a somber mood, but I always walked away feeling so sad and guilt-ridden that for years I tried to be “good” so God would love me. How sad and contradictory to grace, our loving Father’s free and unmerited favor for sinful humanity. But although I didn’t know much at that time, I understood the cruelty of His crucifixion and the absolute truth of John 3:16, which confirms, “God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life,” and it seems to me, even then, that was cause for hope, adoration, gratitude and celebration.
The women from Galilee had followed Jesus to the tomb in deep sorrow and saw where his body was placed. So imagine their surprise when they went back to anoint His body with spices and ointments for proper burial and was told, “He isn’t here! He is risen from the dead” (Luke 24:6)! What a difference a day makes! I imagined the women’s footsteps were light as they left to spread the good news. The full significance of Easter Sunday can be fully understood and felt when we first linger at the tomb and appreciate the gift of hope. Hope is synonyms with confidence, expectation, optimism, anticipation, and courage. It is said to be an optimistic attitude of mind based on an expectation of positive outcomes related to events and circumstances in ones life or the world at large. So because of that empty tomb, I refuse to live an empty, defeated life, because the tomb is a reminder of a love that infuses me with hope. For “We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment” (Romans 5:3-5).
We need that confident trust to face each day. As the cross assures us of God’s unfailing love, so does the empty tomb proclaims Christ’s victory over death, and guarantees our own victory over death. So on that first Easter morning, sorrow was turned into praise, tears into joy, and despair into hope. Let us linger at the tomb for that hope because our shattered hearts and dreams that often seemed so final can be changed and restored! What a difference a day makes—indeed!