One Empty Tomb

We stand on the edge of uncertainty this Good Friday as U.S. warships head to the Korean peninsula in response to N. Korea's saber rattling.


History repeats, and it is much like it was when President John Fitzgerald Kennedy faced the Cuban missile crisis and a cold war with Russia was threatened by an actual war that no one really wanted and no one could know the outcome of.


The weekend will bring what the weekend will bring, and this life is never certain simply because our flesh is mortal, man has not yet learned to get along with his fellow man and most likely never will, and tyrants never cease to attempt to rule the world and instill their tyranny upon it.

But the first day of the new week will also bring a historical hope for mankind in one empty tomb that speaks of a life beyond this one where there are no tyrants, or wars, or sickness, or death.


The occupant of that tomb faced these things in His own life and succumbed physically to them because He threatened their very existence and offered the hope of freedom from them.


Not only was He the occupant of that tomb, but also the Landlord of life's vineyard, which gave Him absolute authority over it and the workers that tended to it and still do.


The difference in the darkness that fell on that first Good Friday with an eclipse of the sun and an earthquake that shook those present to their very souls, and the light that shone on that first day of the week that followed is staggering.


It is a light and a hope that transcends saber rattling, and war, and sickness, and tyrants, and death itself.