The other day someone asked me if our band, Not Young Anymore, would play again. I told her that we are hoping to perform again at the Chinese New Year’s bazaar next year. Talking about it reminded me that the next time we sing, Yoyong, Darma, and Harry will not be able to join us. It’s like a dream—and I wish it were—but it is not.
Life is returning to normal but our lives are not. We still think of our loved ones who have gone before us and wish that they were still with us. We still find it hard to believe that they are no longer here. Personally, I cannot imagine how we can ever go back to normalcy without our loved ones. Half of us was ripped apart, leaving the other half alone. We can function but only with half of the energy.
I am guessing that’s what the disciples of Jesus felt after the death of their beloved teacher. For three years, every day, they saw Him, talked to Him, slept with Him, and learned from Him. They found not only companion and guidance, but also meaning and purpose of life. They had a future but suddenly that future was taken away in one day, in less than 24 hours. No more Jesus, only sweet memory.
The three days Jesus was in the grave became perhaps the three longest days of their lives. But the three days were needed to show that Jesus was indeed dead; there’d be no resurrection without death. So, when the disciples met with Jesus again, without a doubt they knew—not only believe—they Jesus had risen from the dead. Seeing Jesus in the flesh but no longer bound by the flesh gave them a new faith. No longer faith in a great prophet of God but faith in a great God who became a man and lived among them. And that faith has been passed down to us. Jesus died and rose again; He’s truly the Son of God, the Messiah, the Anointed One of God, the Resurrection and the Life, who will raise us and give us eternal life.