I read John 19 today, where Jesus is crucified and dies. His suffering so eclipses anything I will ever know, yet it is written about in such a short, quiet way. Even poetic John doesn’t elaborate. You’d think that He would spend chapters on the death of Christ. But he doesn’t. He only gives it 13 verses.
I think it is because they saw Jesus alive after that. He died, but then He didn’t. I think if Jesus had died, and never returned, then John would have memorialized Him in chapter after chapter flowing about His death. But instead Jesus comes back and hangs out with them a few days later, and His death is almost forgotten. It’s just a prelude to the resurrection. I get caught up in it because as much as I know better, I often picture Jesus dead. Don’t get me wrong, I completely believe He’s alive. I trust the resurrection with every fiber of my being. I’m staking my entire life on the truth of it. But I haven’t seen Jesus alive. I can scientifically understand that He lived, and that the crucifixion took place. His death is logical; easy to accept. But this resurrection. That’s the stuff of faith. So I have to constantly push myself further into it. One day, I too will be like John, no longer fascinated so much by the death of Jesus. I will see Him face to face, heart to heart. This will all fade. But sometimes, here, in this world of shadows, I have to push to be there.