Politicians say the most ridiculous things. They stand on soapboxes and say theyβre going to save our country. Inexplicably, even after all their lies, we still believe them.
But while politicians, mystics, and revolutionaries, make outrageous claims about who they are, we never hear even the most radical among their rank say, βI am the Way, the Truth, and the Life.β It takes a little Carpenter named βChristβ to do that.
Such an absurd claim demands evidence. Take the last part of His statement, βI am the Life.β How exactly does one prove Heβs Life, itself? Itβs not enough to merely live, as all of us are also living (and might live for a very long time). Itβs not even enough to save the lives of others, as doctors, farmers, and firefighters, do that every day.
Instead, the only way Christ proves Heβs Life is to partake in a paradox, and die.
The hockey player who says βNo one can skate faster than meβ proves it by beating his competition in a race. The artist who says βNo sculptor can create more beautifully than meβ proves it by chiselling David. An escape artist who says, βNo prison can detain me,β is locked in the strongest prison to see if itβs true.
Likewise, when Christ says, βDeath cannot conquer me,β He proves it by going to the grave. All men die as proof that weβre sinners, but Jesus died as proof that Heβs sinless.
Of course, that doesnβt excuse our actions on Good Friday. Our crucifixion of Christ wasnβt just the murder of a Man; it was the murder of mankind. It was the day we decided the One who gives us life was no longer worthy of life. Creation killed its Creator; sheep betrayed their shepherd, and we used our life to take the Saviourβs life away.
The innocent Jesus of Nazareth was humiliated, tortured, and traded for a murderer. At 3 pm, His cup overflowing and suffering complete, this little Carpenter on the cross roared with a victorious cry that shook deep space as surrendered His spirit, and died.
Full of satisfaction, death walked away with the thought it conquered Life. That wouldβve been the case if death hadnβt marched right into Godβs trap, but it did. Its supreme victory turns out to be its mortal defeat. The moment it consumed Christ is the moment Christ consumed it. As death swallowed up Life, Life swallowed up death.
Shackled in the grave, Christ was finally ready to prove His power over it. He needed to be locked in a tomb to show the world not even the strongest tomb could arrest Him. Itβs true that Good Friday isnβt so good if Sunday never comes, but it does. Death snarls at us with jagged teeth and says, βRemember when You killed your Saviour?β
βWe do,β we answer, βbut we also remember another event.β
His Resurrection.
