This past Wednesday night I decided to tell a very short version of the events of what has been called Holy Week for centuries to the children gathered for our mid-week children’s group. It took me about 10 or so minutes to start with Palm Sunday (and why we called it “palm” Sunday) through the events in temple that caused Jesus to get angry, to the Last Supper and Passover (and I explained what the Passover meant to the horror and consternation of some of the kids) and on to Good Friday (“Why is it called “Good” Friday Pastor Jim when Jesus died?”)
As I have reflected on that experience the immenseness of Easter hit me head on like never before and I am not sure why. It has also silenced me for the past several days from writing on here, or Twitter (at least until late last night when I decided to leave it for a while and deactivated my account) or Facebook. 
Until today when we held an Easter egg hunt. My wife used some “well-known Easter Eggs” to present the Easter story and it came to me again:
“Where do you find yourself in the events from Palm Sunday to Easter Sunday morning?”
I am not sure why that question, which I often ask myself and others during this week, popped into my head, (I’ll credit the Holy Spirit however). But it is what I am pondering this Holy Saturday afternoon (often called Black Saturday)
I see myself sometimes in Peter’s shoes in the courtyard when I deny the Lord by a refusal to trust Him or speak up in response to a question about this weekend.
There are other times when I am disappointed with God and even angry with Him when He does not do what I thought He should do and I find myself in the angry crowd. (Have you stopped to consider that perhaps they grew angry with him, not just because they were afraid of going against their religious leaders in not supporting their efforts to crucify Him, but because, like Judas, they thought He did not do what a Messiah was supposed to do – take Israel back from the Romans and re-establish Israel as a great nation?)
And there are times when I find myself in disbelief like the disciples did when Mary said “He’s alive!” until Jesus moves a mountain in my life and that embrace of grace and power creates a change within me that I cannot make though I have tried and tried.
I definitely not there when Jesus was crucified. But I have through my disbelief, my denial, even my sin of betrayal through disobedience, often mocked His saving grace and turned my back on Him.
What about you? Where do you find yourself in the Easter story?
