My social media feed and even my personal messages have been full the last day or two with some variant of the message.

“It’s Friday, but Sunday’s coming!”

I get it.  I do.

It’s what we call Holy Week; throughout the week, we celebrate the death and then on Sunday, the resurrection, of our Lord.  It seems that much of the world does the same, even though they are not believers—not true participants in the result.

But, this week has always been a melancholy time for me—my thoughts filled with sadness that Jesus died, betrayed by a follower whom He loved, abandoned by most of His other followers, and beaten and tortured to death by foreigners who occupied His homeland.

And, on a personal level, other events have crowded in, making the days even more melancholy.  I’m almost wondering if I can participate in the reenactment of the joy that comes after the sad “holy week”.

Resurrection day, commonly called Easter, will dawn with light and music.  We will—rightly—raise our voices in praise to our God in gratitude for His great gift of salvation, of redemption.

But, I know there are people—many of them—who will be in our churches, sitting beside us in the chairs or on the pews, with hearts overflowing with sadness and sorrow still.  Even on this, the most joyful of days we mark in our calendars, they will mourn, or wait for bad news, or sit in pain—awaiting relief that may never come in this life.

We sang the old hymn a few weeks ago in the fellowship I’m blessed to be part of.  It’s an old song about the cross Jesus died upon.

I admit, I don’t always think about the words when I’m so familiar with a song.  I’ve sung this one all my life.  But, I thought about the words this time.

The song was written by Isaac Watts, well known for his contributions to our lexicon of worship songs.  The chorus, however, was added more than a hundred years after Mr. Watts wrote the verses.

The original words are deep, wonderfully so.  The chorus, not so much, but it too is well-loved, nonetheless.

The hymn is now known as At the Cross, although originally Isaac Watts named it Alas, and Did My Savior Bleed.  You may already be humming the tune as you read this.

I’m just not certain about the last line of the added chorus we sing.

“And now, I am happy all the day.”

I’m not.  I’m just not.

I am grateful beyond expression for the astounding gift of grace given to us at the cross.  My joy at knowing we follow a risen Savior is uncontainable.  Uncontainable!

I will sing with abandon (I promise you—I will!) of His victory over death.

Hallelujah, Christ Arose!

But, I will also mourn with those who mourn.  I will cry with those who cry.

Almost certainly—in that very service where I sing with abandon, I will weep as my Lord did when His heart was moved for the mourners.

Sunday is coming!  Again and again, it is coming.

We rejoice.  We mourn.  We serve.  Until that day when God will wipe away every tear.

He promised He would.  And, He is faithful.

What a glorious day!

He is risen indeed!

 

“Then the men asked, ‘Why are you looking among the dead for someone who is alive?  He isn’t here! He is risen from the dead!'” 
(Luke 24:5b-6a, NLT)

 

© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2024. All Rights Reserved.