Empty Manger, Empty Tomb #Easter

Easter decorations and a manger:

Strange companions?

Read on . . . 

 

 

Last week I put up Easter decorations. A colorful outside banner proclaims,

"He Is Risen," etched against a glorious sunrise and empty tomb. A 

wooden cross and other Easter symbols adorn my front window.

   Across the room, an empty manger sits atop a bookcase. Gone are Mary, Joseph, Baby Jesus, shepherds, and Magi (who actually came to "the house where Jesus lay" some time later). A gilt star remains on the roof, but no longer does a ceramic angel hover. Even the faithful sheep, cow, and little donkey nest in their packing case and wait for next Christmas. 

 

When I took down decorations in January, I failed to pack the rustic shelter that houses the Nativity. I decided to leave it as a reminder. The stable served its purpose on the Night of Wonder, then Jesus, his family, and visitors moved on.

Thirty-three years later, Jesus again moved on. The grave, sealed with a great stone, and carefully guarded, could not hold Him. His death and Resurrection,

given out of incomparable love, opened the Way to forgiveness and 

eternal life for all who will accept His sacrifice and follow Him.

 

 

Easters past

 

As a teenager in the fifties, Easter in my hometown was a time of joy and celebration. The population was only approximately 700, but we had an abundance of churches representing different denominations who often joined for special worship services.

 

 

Easter mornings found a crowd at the Ski Jump area a little way above town. Bundled like Eskimos against the dawn chill, we watched the sun peek over the hill, yawn, survey the crowd of worshipers, then burst into the sky in a blaze of glory. Birdsong joined voices filling the air with hymns such as "Christ, the Lord, is Risen Today," "He Arose," and "The Old Rugged Cross." Prayer and a short message followed. The half-hour or so set the tone for the rest of the day, which was filled with  church and family dinners.

 

If it rained or snowed (as sometimes happened) we met in the Community Center, built with volunteer labor and donated building materials in 1954. 

 

As with Christmas and other holidays during the past year, I will celebrate Easter in my own home. I will miss seeing my family. Yet when I look at the empty manger, and  remember the empty tomb, I will again rejoice, and give thanks that Jesus came. Because He lives, I shall one day join Him and those I love who are already singing songs of joy and shouting "Hosanna!" in heaven.

 

 

 Happy Easter, all.

Love,

Colleen