Judas killed himself after surrendering his Master to certain death. The other eleven apostles eventually found the courage to testify about their new lives, made possible after Jesus conquered death.
As Easter Sunday’s readings open, a newly reborn Peter makes and takes a witness stand. The last time he was grilled about his relationship with Jesus he refused to incriminate himself. This new testimony from the Acts of the Apostles (Acts 10:34a, 37-43) is given under an immunity won by his Master’s victory over the grave.
This man God raised on the third day and granted that he be visible, not to all the people, but to us, the witnesses chosen by God in advance, who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead.
We are later taken back to the site where Peter finally shed his formerly scared-stiff self and accepted the life Jesus intended for him (Jn 20:1-9). The grave from which the Master rose turned out to be a burial site for the old cowering Peter. This is the site to which the old Peter raced, although outrun by the younger disciple. Yet the younger one reserves first-entry rights for the one the master chose as the rock upon which he would build his church.
When Simon Peter arrived after him, he went into the tomb and saw the burial cloths there, and the cloth that had covered his head, not with the burial cloths but rolled up in a separate place. Then the other disciple also went in, the one who had arrived at the tomb first, and he saw and believed.
From this grave a new Peter emerges, taking on a new job as a professional witness. Peter’s testimony continues:
He commissioned us to preach to the people and testify that he is the one appointed by God as judge of the living and the dead.
Another dead and risen disciple, Paul, adds his testimony to Peter’s via our second Easter reading (Col 3:1-4). Paul’s words help us realize that through his and Peter’s rebirth we are invited to kill and bury our old imperfection-riddled selves as well.
Brothers and sisters: … Think of what is above, not of what is on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ your life appears, then you too will appear with him in glory.”
Human beings have strong life lines to ephemeral things. We are called to sever these temporary ties before nature or fate do—then to rise with Peter, Paul and generations of other disciples who followed Christ out of that hollow but holy tomb.
–Tom Andel
“The cloth that covered His head, was rolled up (folded up) and not with the other cloths”
Two things to ponder:
1. The folding symbolized that this was not a haphazard raising of a body, but a planned and calculated event.
2. A folded cloth left behind symbolized that the Master was coming back. The servant would fold the cloth in anticipation of his Master’s return.
Thanks Jerry. These little details you identify are things that mortals trying to make this LOOK like a resurrection would have missed. But for immortals ministering to the Master of immortality, these are the first of many “Easter Eggs” leading the way to our own rebirth.
Tom this is a beautiful description of how we can know our Savior, even love Him, but let fear of ridicule keep us from proclaiming him as our Savior until we have our own rebirth and choose to put Jesus Christ first in our lives. Jesus knew who Peter would be. He knows and loves us into being the people we’re meant to be, if we choose Him.
Agreed, Deb–our secular lives make belief in anything beyond our senses a sign of sickness. It takes courage to believe that Easter means something more than the Easter Bunny.
Peter is the prime example of a redemption story. How far of a journey from the denials to entering the empty tomb to delivering the first sermon of the newly birthed church at Pentecost.
He and Paul were walking testimonials to the power of God’s grace to raise us from the graves of our old selves.
The transformation of Peter, Paul or anyone that is willing to put it all on the line for a noble cause makes me pause and wonder, would or could I do that? We see many examples even by Peter and the Apostles that when facing the fire, their initial response is flight.
Yet, we are instructed by Christ that on our own we can do nothing, but if strengthened by His spirit we are capable of amazing things. He said he would send the “advocate or the helper” to strengthen and lead us and help us.
The question is, do we have to be prepared to recieve this help, or just be open to it in faith? Maybe a little of both.
We’re used to thinking that saintly heroism requires risking one’s life. Very often it just requires risking one’s comfort and convenience. Just today, I was taking my daily walk along our local nature trail, enjoying the sun. As I walked, I noticed someone sitting on a far-off park bench. I thought nothing more of him as I continued my journey. Eventually, dark clouds started gathering and thunder sounded. I didn’t have my umbrella, so I resigned myself to getting drenched (but also said a little prayer that I wouldn’t). I started running AND getting wet–until reaching the trail’s parking lot, where I suddenly heard someone call my name. It was Al, an older gentleman I met during previous trail walks. He happened to be the guy I saw on the park bench before this storm hit. I didn’t recognize him then, but he recognized me–and the fact I didn’t have an umbrella to defend myself from the coming storm. Knowing I was heading to the parking lot many other trail walkers used, he drove there intending to meet me and offer a ride. He didn’t have to go out of his way to do this, but his concern for my comfort and well-being inspired him to answer the prayer only God could have heard. Heroic? Saintly? Yes on both counts. Nothing prepared Al to do this, other than the holy spirit who spent Al’s lifetime shaping who he became.