The day before Easter had been sunny, warm and beautiful, a perfect spring day. I had hopes for the same on Easter Sunday, and was awake to watch the sunrise. Sunrise on that sad morning 2,000 years ago was when the earth shook and everything changed forever–sunrise was the moment the Son of God rose from the dead.
The sky was brightening and at five minutes till seven an orange glow appeared on the eastern horizon. It grew and grew over the next couple of minutes, warming my heart as I watched. But then it began to shrink again, and soon disappeared behind the grey cloud that covered the entire sky. Those few minutes were the only time I saw the sun that entire day, as it remained overcast and later rained in the afternoon.
At first I was sad about the sunless day. But then I began to think how similar God’s own Son’s rising had been. Yes, the Son has risen. We have seen Him! He is here! His Kingdom is here! Who can deny that the Light has come? It’s no longer dark—as it had been dark at 3am, a few hours before. But on the other hand, it’s not what it’s going to be when someday God rolls away the clouds and we see Jesus in His fullness—the returning King come to set the world aright!
The Resurrection has begun. The New Age is upon us. Jesus began it, a few others in a cemetery in Jerusalem experienced it, but most of us are still living in hope and anticipation of the Resurrection to come. We are living in the in-between time, the time of walking by faith, the time when the Kingdom of God is more like an Impressionist painting than a photograph. The light has come, the glory of the LORD is upon us. The day IS dawning, and the Morning Star is rising in our hearts. It was a beautiful Easter Sunday, and every year Easter becomes more beautiful as the realization of what God has done grows in me.