Happy Easter Sunday.
He is Alive!!!!
Meet the Beloved Disciple.

Today, we spend our last reflection with John. He calls himself the Beloved Disciple in his gospel. The Church reminds us that he uses that name instead of his to help us remember that WE are the Beloved Disciple as well. So now, let us imagine what it must have felt like to have watched all that transpired over the last few days through his eyes. To see Jesus, whom we love, betrayed, beaten, and die. To feel that grief deep in our souls and to relieve the last three years, hearing his words over and over in our minds and trying to make sense of what happened.

But then we hear the words from Mary Magdalene and race to the tomb. We see it empty and everything starts to come into focus. Of all the disciples, John, the beloved, begins to connect the dots first.

As his followers, let the realization of what has happened change you today. May we run to tell everyone that He is ALIVE! Don’t let Easter end today. Let the Light shine in our dark world and draw others to Him.

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Acts 10:34, 37-43, Psalm 118, Colossians 3:1-4,
John 20:1-9

As I lay here in the pre-dawn darkness, I can’t even remember what day it is. Is it really Sunday morning already? It’s all one big blur after that last supper here Thursday evening. The way Jesus celebrated that Passover meal was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. I can still feel his heartbeat as I rested close by him at the table. Has that heart really stopped? Is he really dead? I saw it happen. I know it is true. 
 
Even through my pain, I can hear his words penetrating my mind and I’m trying to make sense of them all. “Little children, yet a little while I am with you. You will seek me; and as I said to the Jews, so now I say to you, where I am going you cannot come.” He was trying to tell us. It just didn’t register. Peter even asked him why we couldn’t follow, and Jesus tried to warn him. Even now the fisherman is sitting in a corner all alone, a shell of the man he used to be. I know that the weight of his denial is heavy. I wish I could comfort him, but he isn’t ready to hear from me. Last time I tried, he just told me I couldn’t understand because I had stayed with Him. 
 
I did stay close, that’s true, but it was excruciating. I couldn’t believe He didn’t stop the Pharisees when they were saying such lies. Watching the scourging rip the flesh from his body and observing the pain on his face as his blood splashed my way is forever burned in my mind. Yet, even in the midst of all that suffering, his eyes held a calm and strength I can’t shake. How did he endure it all with such grace? It felt like he knew there was a purpose for each blow and each insult. It is still beyond me why he didn’t stop them. I know he could have. He did so many amazing things for others. But, he did say, “The ruler of this world is coming. He has no power over me; but I do as the Father has commanded me, so that the world may know that I love the Father.”  I truly believe all that happened only occurred because he allowed it. 
 
I think back to the moment I stood with Mother at the foot of that cross and the wind became cold as it shifted and sent a chill down our spines. He didn’t stop teaching, even in his agony. I knew his death was getting closer, when he turned and looked at her and said, “Woman, behold your son.” Then he turned to me and said, “Behold your mother.” As much as I miss him, having her close feels like having a piece of Jesus still with me. He knew that she would bring comfort to us. She is stronger than all of us and continues to minister to us with her words and kindness. Just this morning she reminded us, “Blessed are they that mourn.”  
 
His words again come flashing back, “Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid. You heard me say, I go away, and I will come to you…And now I have told you before it takes place, so that when it does take place you may believe.” I am trying, Jesus. I want to be your beloved disciple and stay faithful. But it is hard.  I know that I must, even if I don’t understand. It’s hard to imagine how all you promised will happen if you are not here. How do we carry on? 
 
There is a loud knock on the door, and we are all startled. The fear of the Romans is palpable in the room. And then we hear the voice of Mary. We crack the door open to let her in. Her words come spilling out and shake us to the core. “They have taken the Lord from the tomb, and we don’t know where they have put him.” Peter looks at me and without a single word spoken we both rise from our places and race out to the tomb, our feet flying over the stone path and through the early morning dew covered grass. The questions are bouncing around in my mind. Who would have stolen his body? Why? Is this a trap? Are they trying to draw us out in order to crucify us too? As my thoughts race, I fly by Peter and my breath leaves my body when I see the stone rolled away. How? No! 
 
I bend down and look in and all I see are the burial cloths. I feel frozen. My body won’t move another inch. Where is he? What is going on? Peter finally catches up and brushes past me, crashing through the opening. I hear him mumbling under his breath something about finding whoever did this and how they will be sorry they were ever born. But all I can think is why? 
I force myself to step into this sacred place and suddenly it becomes real. I can hear his voice clearly as if he was standing here in this empty tomb with me, “The Son of man is to be delivered into the hands of men, and they will kill him, and he will be raised on the third day.” 
 
What day is it again? One, two, THREE! Its day three! He tried to tell us. Yes! There is something more going on. 
 
Jesus, where are you? Are you alive? I believe it must be true and we have to tell everyone.