Dawn, on the first day of the week

A GROUP of women make their way anxiously out of the gate, towards the garden not far from the city wall. The last vestiges of night seem to cling to them, seeping into their minds and numbing their emotions.

They walk slowly, carrying the jars of spice with which they would anoint the body of their Lord, determined to complete the last office to the dead, which had been interrupted by the approach of the Sabbath.

This symbol of kindness would be their last act of loving devotion for the Master – the one they had believed to be the hope of Israel; but that was over now and all that remained was the slow, tortuous journey towards the garden where hope and love lay buried in the tomb.

They walked in silence, but even if their voices did not form the words, they still echoed in their minds refusing to be silenced: ‘What if we cannot move the stone? What if the guards bar our way or arrest us? What if, even now in Jerusalem’s early morning, the Temple police are rounding up the other disciples? What if some people came during the night and took away his body?’

So many unthinkable ‘what ifs’!

We can understand how they felt, can’t we? We all face questioning moments in our lives. In relation to health: What if the condition I have is more serious than I first thought? What if I lose my physical independence? In relation to employment: What if I lose my job? How will I manage? What if my savings don’t stretch to meet the bills? In respect of relationships: What about the future? What if I’m left alone? How will I face life then? How will I cope with the loneliness and isolation? Questions about ultimate realities: What if this life is all there is? Is death the final farewell to all I have known and loved?

Most alarming of all in the context of the Easter drama, we are compelled to face this question in relation to the life of Christ and ask as the apostle Paul did: ‘What if Christ has not been raised from death?’ (see 1 Corinthians 15:14). If that were the case then what a catalogue of despair follows as a consequence! Paul speaks for us all when he says, if Christ has not been raised from death –
• our preaching has no purpose (1 Corinthians 15:14)
• our witness is false (v15)
• our faith is futile and we are still in our sins (v17)
• our hope of eternal life is lost (v18).

Is it any wonder that, contemplating such a dreadful possibility, Paul says in verse 19: ‘If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied’ (New International Version)? What a world this would be if the presence of the living Christ were not a reality!

However, Paul doesn’t end his message there and neither can we. Though we are faced with a world that often rejects Christ and the values of his Kingdom and though we are often confronted with the doubts and uncertainties and ‘what ifs’ of a creation that awaits liberation from its bondage to decay (Romans 8:21), nevertheless we do not lose heart, for crashing down upon the granite cliffs of doubt and fear come the mighty waves of faith that declare ‘but now Christ!’

Over every fearful ‘what if’ is written large in letters of gold: ‘But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead’ (1 Corinthians 15:20). Across the centuries of sin and despair, this great shout of victory still rings out: ‘The Lord is risen indeed!’

The absolute certainty of the Resurrection and the presence of the living Saviour in their lives, have been the inspiration and hope for men and women throughout the centuries. In view of this, Paul says that we can stand firm, undisturbed, faithful in giving ourselves to the Lord, because over every ‘what if’ of life – the fears we face, our sin, our failure, our weakness, even the fear of death itself – we can confidently write: ‘But now, Christ is risen.’ Hallelujah!

Because he lives I can face tomorrow,
Because he lives all fear is gone;
Because I know he holds the future,
And life is worth the living just because he lives.
(William Gaither, Happiness And Harmony 7)

• Colonel Hinton is Chief Secretary, THQ