This is my 30^th blog post since Ash Wednesday.  For anyone following my saga, my goal was 30 posts during Lent so I was close since this is Easter Monday.  (Or Dyngus Day if your Polish and don’t mind getting wet.  Look it up!)

I have mixed feelings today.  Easter was a wonderful celebration of faith and joy with our family at Living Hope.  But on Saturday, I learned that my godson had been killed in Afghanistan.  Appropriately juxtaposing these two events is so difficult.   I rejoice and I cry at the same time.  Many years ago, Pat Terry wrote a song that I have always remembered called “Man of Steel.”  It captures well what I am wrestling with today. 

It's a typical day for the man of steel, a little happy and a little bit sad
That seems like a reasonable way to feel for a man in a world gone mad

There's a baby that's bouncing on his daddy's knee
grinning like the world's his own
There's a Cadillac climbing a cold dark hill
to a grave with a fresh placed stone

And the man of steel has a gleam in his eye for the innocent one
And the man of steel has a lump in his throat for the loved one gone
and the man of steel has hope in his heart for anyone
who can see what's true between the two and carry on

He used to feel funny about feeling sad
He saw it as a sign of weakness
Now he takes his portion of the good and bad
and he prays he can make a difference

'Cause there's a poor man begging for a crust of bread
on a hard mean street downtown
And there's a rich woman sewing with a golden thread
on the train of her wedding gown

And the man of steel has a tear in his eye for the homeless one
And the man of steel has a lump in his throat for the owner of love
and the man of steel has hope in his heart for anyone
who will see both sides and still decide to carry on

And the man of steel has a lump in his throat
for a world gone wrong
And the man of steel has a gleam in his eye
for the one who's despair is gone
and the man of steel has hope in his heart for anyone
Who will sing a clear and truthful song
Who can hear a lie and still be strong
who will see both sides and still decide to carry on, To carry on

“Man Of Steel" from the Pat Terry album The Silence

I often forget about Saturday.  Good Friday is so dramatic, painful, moving, and draining.  I want to move immediately to the victory of Sunday.  I would like to get up on Saturday morning and shout, “He is Risen!”  But then there is Saturday.  In the hindsight of 2000 years, it becomes a day to prepare for Easter Sunday.  But for the disciples on that first Holy Saturday, I’m sure it was a test of faith.  They had seen the crucified Jesus utter his last breath.  They had watched the spear bring forth water and blood, a sure sign that death had occurred.   These followers had heard Jesus speak of his future reign and the promise of resurrection but now they faced the reality of Saturday: death had won.  Or so it seemed.  The challenge was to hold on to the coming promise when death appeared to rule the day. 

We, who live on this side of resurrection, have no such excuse.  We who believe in Easter Sunday should never abandon hope in the face of death.  The resurrection is the guarantee that it is all true.  There is a God of power and love whose timing is perfect.  Holy Saturday will be in the rear view mirror before we know it.      

I hate having a virus.  But it wasn’t my Dr. I needed to see yesterday.  I got a computer virus somehow that hijacked all my programs and told each of them to default to the virus.  Whenever I tried to open anything, I received ominous popups that told me, ironically, that a virus had put my computer at risk.  I had a busy day yesterday and didn’t have time for this nonsense.  I tried a few fixes but I was powerless.  In honor of holy week, I was hollering “Hosanna” with no shame.  Save me!  Finally, a wise and benevolent friend took my computer and fixed it for me.  He returned back to its original condition and didn’t have to delete any files or data.  I am truly grateful.    

This reminds me of the gospel.  The human race has been hijacked by a virus called sin.  No matter which life programs we try to run, the effects of sin are persistent and pervasive.  I am powerless on my own to overcome this virus but someone merciful and strong has intervened on my behalf.  He offers to restore me to my “pre-sin settings”.  I am still me (he didn’t delete my files) but now I can live my life battling the sin virus with appropriate tools and scans (thank you Holy Spirit) as opposed to being at sin’s mercy. 

Thank you Lord for the cross that takes away my virus.  And thank you Chuck for reminding me.