He Is Risen!!
We have read the story (whether true or false we do not know) that for many centuries there was a prevalent custom among the Greek (Orthodox) churches of giving special greetings to one another each year on what they considered the anniversary of the Lord's resurrection. Instead of the usual salutation, on this day the believers greeted one another with, "The Lord is risen!" To which the response would be, "He is risen indeed!" While faithful Christians of our more materialistic age would probably feel self-conscious and slightly embarrassed by such greetings, is it not true that for many of us the warmth and inner glory of and abiding certainty of the resurrection of Christ is the one greatest spiritual treasure life affords. We might not say it like the Greeks (indeed, might not even say it at all) but our faith, inarticulate and mute though it be, is the greatest force in life.
It is particularly true of our generation that we have lived in the presence of death. The whole world has witnessed carnage these last few decades that surpasses description. And the past is but an ominous and terrible omen of the even more frightening possibilities of the future. The depravity of unregenerate man is such that there seems little prospect that worldwide peace will ever be attainable until a war of total destruction shall have devastated the earth — leaving only a few thousands of maimed and crippled survivors to start the struggle up through the long, long centuries of re-building civilizations that have been destroyed.
But this prospect, chilling and depressing though it be, is made bearable for the Christian because of his faith in Christ. The words of Peter, as they echo the oft-repeated admonitions of the Savior, are effective in the heart of every believer: "And fear not their fear, neither be troubled." The answer to earth's hideous destruction is found in that resurrection morn when the thrilling word of hope was breathlessly passed from disciple to disciple, "He is risen!"
Nearly two millenniums have passed since that memorable day, but neither years nor miles nor changes of earth can dim the bright glory of the hope that was born that day. It is truly, as expressed by some long forgotten poet, "earth's gladdest day." The agony of despair which overwhelmed the sorrowing disciples on that "black Friday" must surely have plumbed any depth that the human soul could reach — the human soul of that day, or of our day, or our children's day. For, after all, each individual heart is capable of only so much suffering or fear or desolation; and when the nadir of that limit has been reached, there can be no added agony. We believe those early disciples reached the bottom. And because they did sink to the uttermost despair, they were able to understand the glory of the salvation that came so shortly afterward:
"A song of sunshine through the rain,
Of spring across the snow;
A balm to heal the hurts of pain,
A peace surpassing woe.
Lift up your heads, ye sorrowing ones,
And be ye glad of heart,
Earth's saddest day, and gladdest day
Were just three days apart."
These two things go together, The "sadness" and the "gladness" are opposite sides of the same coin. The sadness is the expression of sin. The blackest deed to stain the pages of human history was humanity's betrayal of her Savior. Here we have the epitome of evil, the incarnate demonstration of all that is wicked and destructive. And the answer to that evil comes in the "gladness" of an event that promises the defeat of sin in the human heart, the possibility of salvation not only from the present power of sin, but equally from its eternal consequences.
Every Spring is a fresh beginning. The fair young blossoms of April and May, coming forth from the frozen clutch of winter, are but God's way of keeping his promises ever before us. "While the earth remaineth, seedtime and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night shall not cease." As the grass turns green on the mound in the churchyard, an infinite peace settles upon the heart of the grieving believer. For this is God's promise. And the same God has also promised that in His own good time the more precious dust beneath that church-yard mound "shall hear his voice and come forth." In the strength of this hope, in the beauty of this peace, the Christian faces the future undaunted and unafraid. If there be no alternative for mankind save the unutterable bleakness of a world devastated by fire and fury, so be it. The Christian looks beyond the horror of the grave to a life with God. "He is risen!" And his resurrection is the pledge and promise of our own.
— F. Y. T.