I have often thought that we miss some of the powerful symbolism of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ. This is, after all, the greatest moment in history. It is the backdrop, the essence, the key argument of the faith for all Christian believers.
What is it?
It is the silence of the moment. The very fact that no one actually witnessed this event, is in itself amazing. There were witnesses at the passion and death of Jesus. His mother was there, his close disciples and those who crucified him. Along with the two who were next to him on their crosses. He was not alone. He was with relatives, friends and criminals. That in itself is a good story.
But the Resurrection. Not a single witness is recorded in the gospels. All we have are a few stories 'after the event'. There are the angels telling the disciples that 'He is not here', He is risen. We have the scene of Peter racing to the tomb and seeing it empty. We have the appearances AFTER the resurrection to people, some of whom did not recognise him. Why was that?
Yet I come back to the resurrection itself. No reporters, no media, not a single person saw the great moment of His resurrection. Why is this so? No one saw his rising from the dead and leaving the shroud behind with the linen cloths. It was as if He did not want to make any fuss.
But what we could ask and what we may assume, is that perhaps, perhaps, He did go to see His mother, the first witness of His resurrection. In the silence of the moment He appeared to her, to reassure her that he was alive and that his incredible suffering and passion was not in vain. I believe this could be a theological truth.
Yet why did He do it 'quietly'? Why no one there to see? After all, there were three apostles at the Transfiguration on the mountain. They saw his shine like the sun and be transformed before their very eyes. But here as he rose from the dead into life, no one saw it. There were no fanfares, no rolling of drums and clanging of symbols.
In our day and age there is a lot of noise and clanger. We hear and see thousands of people screaming and yelling in front of their rock idols, their sportsmen and women. We become submerged in the cacophany of noise that hits our ears. Often every day I hear the sounds of police cars, fire engines and ambulances racing to save people from criminals, fire and suffering.
So when do we find God? I suggest we find Him in silence. In solitude, in prayer. When we close the door to noise and stop and listen. Then in the roaring silence, we can find God as He speaks to us.
For me this is what prayer is, God speaking to me in silence. I have to take time to listen to this. Words do not matter. 'Prayers' as such do not matter. We can praise him with the multitudes in song. But to listen is to pray. To be silent is to pray and be transformed.
The resurrection teaches us that the greatest things happen in silence, away from the crowds and in the intimacy of one's own life.
