*An old Hebrew legend tells the story of a man’s journey through a desolate area. He rode his mule and carried his rooster which served as an alarm clock to wake him for his morning devotions. Near dusk the first night of his journey, he approached a small village and decided to spend the night. But the inhospitable villagers turned him away. The only shelter he could find was in a cave nearby. He made his bed and lit his lamp, but a gust of wind swept into the cave and blew out the light. While he slept, a wolf killed his rooster and a lion devoured his mule.
The next morning he surveyed his losses and began to wonder why he was the object of such misfortune. He walked to the village to try to buy food but, to his amazement, he found no one alive. During the night, bandits had plundered the town and massacred the inhabitants.
The man said to himself: “Now I understand my troubles. If the townspeople had received me, I would have joined them in death. If my rooster and mule had not been killed, their noise and the light from my lamp would have revealed my hiding place. God has been good to me.”
*The day was called “Good Friday”– an irony in itself. The Greeks called it “Great Friday.” But Jesus’ disciples didn’t believe it was good or great as they saw their leader arrested and taken away to be crucified.
Good Friday—against a background of violence and hatred, it was the ultimate sacrificial love story. To look at it then, it was the worst of times. It was the season of Darkness; death had seemingly triumphed. It was the winter of despair; all that was bad had conspired to conquer all that was good. Jesus was dead and the tomb was sealed and guarded to make it inviolate.
Easter—with the dawn came understanding. Suddenly, it was the best of times. It was the season of Light; the sealed, guarded tomb had not been able to hold the Life within. It was the spring of hope.
A great irony. Out of death came life. God has been good to us.
Vicki Huffman
