He died, but three days later...

Quiet, contemplative, and sacred, the Good Friday service held an air of both sorrow and an undercurrent of joy.

Gathered in a small library at a local Covenant church, lights dimmed, scores of candles bright, we remembered his sacrifice. A piano led us through the liturgy. A violin crooned, sometimes mournful, sometimes soft and warm.

I was transported as I closed my eyes, and the pianist reminded us that he was pierced for our transgressions. In fact, we were the ones who persecuted him, we were the ones who brought him to Calvary, and unwittingly nailed him to the tree:

But he was pierced for our transgressions,
Jesus, all of my vile thoughts and deeds stare me in the face on Good Friday...
he was crushed for our iniquities;
My eyes begin to water as I imagine you whipped, tortured, beaten beyond recognition..."no, no!," I want to scream. My sins cannot be causing this disgrace....
The punishment that brought us peace was upon him,
Nails pounding, soldiers spitting, women weeping, "Father forgive them...Into my hands I commit my Spirit." And then you were dead. For us. For me.
and by his wounds we are healed.
Your hands, your feet, your side, your sweet head, your whole body smitten with the wounds that should have been mine. And in that moment, I was eternally healed.
Isaiah 53:5

Oh, the pain Mary must have felt in her chest, a real physical ache, a sorrow beyond all sorrows.

Until three days hence....

After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb.
Rabbi, our friend, the man who valued us more than any other man, where are you? How can we honor your sacrifice? How can we live with this horrible ache?
There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it. 3His appearance was like lightning, and his clothes were white as snow. 4The guards were so afraid of him that they shook and became like dead men.
Oh, Lord, what can this be?
The angel said to the women, "Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples: 'He has risen from the dead and is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him.' Now I have told you."
Risen!?! Oh, how quickly can my sandals carry this good news...how quickly, Mary, can we run?
The women hurried away from the tomb, afraid yet filled with joy, and ran to tell his disciples.
My heart pounds, but I cannot slow down...I cannot keep this joy inside!
Suddenly Jesus met them. "Greetings," he said. They came to him, clasped his feet and worshiped him. Then Jesus said to them, "Do not be afraid. Go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me."
It is so hard to let go of his garment, of his hand. "We love you more than life, Rabbi. But must we go? We would never leave your side. Oh, well, if you insist. Thomas will never believe this...."
Matthew 28

Jesus is Risen! Forever and always. From here to eternity. He's risen in my heart, he's seated in the heavens, he calls my name, he intercedes for me, he waits while he prepares me a place.

He is risen, indeed.