Jesus Redeemed Me!

Matthew 27

 Then Jesus cried again with a loud voice and breathed his last. At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. The earth shook, and the rocks were split. The tombs also were opened, and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised. After his resurrection they came out of the tombs and entered the holy city and appeared to many.  (Matthew 27)

When I woke up, I didn’t know where I was. Actually, I didn’t even know who I was. It was terrifying to wake up like that, totally disoriented and confused. And then, I felt it: the ground was shaking, there were loud claps of thunder and lightning was flashing across the sky, rain pelting down in a gale force torrent like I’d never before witnessed.

In fact, now, the earth was literally opening up, separating in large cracks, as I seemed to emerge, little by little, from below the ground. I felt the need to run, to escape this terror, to hide and find safety away from the shaking and the noise of the wind and the rain.

Where was I? Strangely, it seemed that I was in a place of tombs, and as I looked, many of them were opening up, above the surface, with, believe it or not, people emerging from them. Yes, people were climbing out of the tombs and silently walking through the graveyard.

They came out of the tombs

I ran. I ran as fast as I could, with no apparent direction in mind. And that’s when I noticed. It was shocking, let me tell you, but I realized that I was no longer myself, I mean, no longer a human girl. No, my body had changed, and as I was running, I could tell that what were formerly two legs and two feet had now become four legs and four feet. I was a rabbit! A rabbit!

My memory was beginning to return. Yes, now I could remember. I had been sick, very sick. And I had gone to sleep, a deep sleep unlike any other. Had I died? Was that why I was in a tomb? Yes, that must be it, I decided, I hadn’t just gone to sleep, I had died and had been laid in a tomb. But how did I turn into a rabbit?

And how long ago? I mean, how much time had passed? I couldn’t tell, but it seemed that the city, Jerusalem, looked different from what I remembered. How long had I been in that tomb? It must have been years, yes, years since I had died.

Let me back up. My name is Rachel and I am (or was) seventeen years old. I lived in Jerusalem, at least the Jerusalem of years ago. But now, it was all changed, and I wondered if my family, my parents, brothers and sisters, were still there. Were they gone? Could they have died while I was asleep? I don’t know.

You should understand that I was not a really good person. I am sorry to admit it, but I gave my parents a very hard time, refusing to obey them and talking back to them in a hateful way. My brothers and sisters got no better from me, and I was without any true friends.

What was my problem? I don’t really know, but I can tell you that I spoke when I should have remained quiet, and I offered my opinions to others when I should have listened. My views on most things were negative and most people thought I had a sour personality. I suppose they were right; I just seemed to see the world as a dark place. I am sorry to admit all of this to you, but I must, because it’s true.

Worst of all, I ran away. Yes, I ran away from home and began to live on the streets, and to beg. You can imagine how my family took that news. And now as I remember it, it was when I was living on the streets that I got sick. Yes, so very sick that I must have died.

But that was my unfortunate past and now, in the present, I found myself running from the tomb. I knew that I must find a way to comprehend what happened to me, losing my life as a girl and finding myself to be an animal, a rabbit. Needless to say, all that was happening, my emerging from the tomb, and realizing that I was now a four-legged creature, all of this was shocking and I had no idea what to do or where to go.

Perhaps, I thought, I could find my old home. Could my family still be there? And if they were, how could they believe? I mean, how could they believe that Rachel is now a rabbit? And if they were still there, would they take me back?

But with no other options, I started off, scampering along on my four legs, aiming at where I remembered we lived. And as I went, I couldn’t escape the thought: why was this happening to me? Was I being punished for my sins? Was this my destiny, to be a rabbit forever? And besides, why was I taken out of my resting place, along with so many others, who came up from the tombs along with me?

Later, I discovered what had happened. There was a man, Jesus was his name, and he was being crucified. He was a good man, an innocent man, but that didn’t seem to help him. In fact, it was his goodness that inflamed so much hatred against him by our religious leaders, who had the Romans crucify him. To them, his goodness was a challenge to their positions of power.

Some thought Jesus was the Messiah, a long-awaited hero who would lead the people to rise up against the hated Romans. But of course, he did not live up to those hopes. Others thought him to be the literal Son of God, who came to live with us to show us how much our God truly loves us and how he wants us to love one another.

And while Jesus was being crucified, that was when the ground began to shake and the rains fell and the tombs opened. Nothing like that had ever happened.

But at the time, I didn’t know any of that. Instead, I was just frantically running, searching for some kind of explanation for my strange new form, and seeking anyone who could take me in, who could rescue me from my fears.

But I found no rescuers. My home was now occupied by strangers, and my family long gone. I could only conclude that many years had passed since I had been laid in the tomb. I wondered to myself if anyone missed me, if anyone mourned my loss. The memories of my bad behavior began to suggest the reason why I was no longer a girl, but instead, a common animal. This, I concluded, was my punishment!

For a time, I can’t remember how long, I wandered the streets and alleys of Jerusalem. And as I did, I began to grieve, not so much for my current fate, but instead, for my former life, how I mistreated both family and friends alike, and how, I was sure, that I was now being held to account. My tears, were, I was certain, human tears.

If I could, I would have found them and asked for their forgiveness. I would have started over with them, finding ways to show them that I really loved them and that I would never run away again. But as I wandered, my hope of forgiveness was lost in my weeping.

And that’s when I found the garden. It was outside the city, an oasis of green nestled within the rocks and sand beyond the city walls. Perhaps I would be safe there, and could begin to put my life back together.

For several days, I hid in the garden. It was a comforting place, one where I could find safety among its lush vegetation. Perhaps, as I grew more resigned to my fate as a rabbit, this garden might become my home.

But then, on the third day, another strange series of events.

It was early morning and the sun had not yet risen. I was asleep, cuddled in the ground under a small bush. Suddenly, another earthquake, something like the ones I remembered from three days before.

Now awake, I looked around to see what had happened. A flash of light momentarily blinded me and when I could see again, I noticed a gaping hole in the rock face that sheltered the garden. Light shone from what must have been a small cave inside the rock face. There were figures inside this space, two of them, mysteriously emitting a sort of light from their bodies.

And then, a man. Yes, a man emerged from inside what I now understood to be a tomb that had been carved into the rock face. This man, even in the dawn of early morning, also seemed to have a glow about him. And then, looking more carefully, I could see the marks of crucifixion on his hands and feet.

This was, without a doubt in my mind, the same man who had been crucified. It was Jesus! Alive!

Thoughts raced through my mind. Had Jesus, like me and so many others, been raised from the dead? Why?

Then, another surprise. Yes, then, Jesus looked at me. At me! I was huddled under the foliage of a bush, but even so, Jesus spotted me. And when he did, he looked at me with such love. I can’t explain that look, so you will just have to trust that no one had ever before looked at me with such love.

“Rachel,” he said, calling my name, the human name that I thought was forever lost. “Rachel, you have been redeemed. Your sins have been removed, covered by my death. And now, just like I was raised, our Father God will now raise you to your real self, the person you were born to be, the person God knitted together in your mother’s womb.”

After hearing him speak these words, everything went fuzzy. I was in a deep sleep, a trance of sorts.

I woke up. How long had I been asleep? I don’t know but now, the sun was up, and it was a bright, beautiful Sunday morning. Then, it came back to me, the earthquake, the figures in the tomb, and the man, Jesus. Where were they? They were gone and I was alone.

Was it real? Did it actually happen? Was Jesus really there? I saw no trace of him or anyone.

And then I looked down. Yes, down. That’s when I suddenly realized that, looking down, I could see my legs and feet. I was tall, just like before. Two legs and two feet. Again, a girl! I had been restored!

I could see the others, the ones who had been raised from their tombs along with me, three days before. They were now slowly walking into the city. I joined them, all of us making quite a procession, surely a surprising one to the residents of Jerusalem.

Where was I going? I had no idea. All I knew is that Jesus had restored me to my former self. He had forgiven me and redeemed me. And as I felt my newly-restored body, I noticed something new, something that had not been there before. It was on my backside and as I felt it, I smiled. It was a gift, I think, from Jesus, a small token from Him, to remind me of His love. Yes, you have guessed. I now had one reminder of my three days as a rabbit – a small, soft, furry bunny tail!

And that, my friends, is my story, the story of the Easter Bunny! I know, you won’t find my story in any of the Gospel accounts that can be read today. But remember: with God, all things are possible!