Jessica Levy Books

Tomorrow is Sunday. Not just any Sunday, but Easter Sunday. Do you know how I know tomorrow is Easter Sunday? I know because it popped up on my Google calendar. I know because yesterday I went to Lidl and there were pastel colors, bunny candies, and chocolate eggs galore. I know because yesterday, on Good Friday, I went to Facebook and my wall was covered with memes about how it’s Friday and it’s dark, but take heart because Sunday is coming.

It’s a lovely concept, honestly. The recognition that Jesus’ entombment stands as a representation of our own dark days. That in remembering the hours his friends and family and followers grieved, we can partake somehow because we, too, have been broken and weeping. And that because he then opened his eyes and walked away from his grave, we can cling to the hope of our own resurrection. Spiritually and circumstantially and emotionally and personally.

It is the good news of the gospel: darkness is not the end of the story! For God so loved us that he sent his Son to take our place in death so that we may live! It’s wonderful that on a weekend in April, we share this truth with the world.

But what about the other Fridays? What about the other times when brokenness becomes us or becomes those around us? When the woman at the store cuts you off in line. When the poor driver definitely is to blame for making you late to work. When someone leaves a rude comment on your Facebook wall. When people are outraged over their perception of injustice and you are swept up in the debate. When your neighbor leads a lifestyle you don’t approve of.

Where is Sunday then?

He has shown you, O mortal, what is good.
    And what does the Lord require of you?
To act justly and to love mercy
    and to walk humbly with your God.

Micah 6:8

The gospel (which literally means “good news”) means that we have, sitting behind our tongues, the single greatest hope to offer every single person we encounter in a day. Every single day. For every Friday, we can spread the message that Sunday is on it’s way. Because the good news is not for Easter weekend, it’s for last Tuesday afternoon and tomorrow morning. It’s not for memes* to share, it’s for times of injustice, people who are different from us, and for those who get under our skin.

*I’m not knocking the memes, you guys. Keep ’em coming! Just don’t stop on Monday.

The truth that Micah shared with Israel in the eighth century B.C. is the same requirement God has for us in the twenty-first century. We are called to act justly, to do what is right and to stand up for what is right. To love mercy. Not have mercy. To love mercy. We are called to surround ourselves with mercy. These means even when you are acting justly and standing up for righteousness, you must do so in mercy. We must love mercy so much that we can’t help it.

And to walk humbly. Without pride or haughty spirit. Not barging into a debate and clothes-lining anyone who crosses us! To walk humbly with God. To allow his spirit to lead our words and actions. Not to come to our own defense, but to let his good news be ever on our lips and on our news feeds and in our hearts.

“Three days after Christ laid His life down, He got up, literally. The nuisance death had become for everyone dead or alive was now defeated. And Jesus, not being one to leave a dirty space to itself, gathered up the linen that once laid on His face, folded it, then placed it on the surface that once held His body. Maybe this was a metaphor. All who would enter the tomb might see that Jesus never leaves any place the same way it was when He entered it.”

This quote was taken from an incredible book by Jackie Hill Perry called Gay Girl, Good God in which the author shares how she was called by God in the midst of her experience with same-sex attraction. One of the main tenets of the book is how the gospel good news holds more power within it for unbelievers than the condemnation of believers does.

And the truth of her words rings out: Jesus never leaves any place the same way it was when he entered it! What of your heart? If Jesus has been there, how has he changed it? What would the world find different about you because of this Son of God who took your place? What would they find in your words and actions that would bring them to the empty tomb? Would they find justice, mercy, and humility?

This world is full of crucifiers. It’s full of floggers and beard rippers. It’s full of mockers and nail hammerers. It’s full of doubters and haters and trolls. These people don’t need more bad news. They don’t need a return flogging. They need some good news! They need their linens folded, to never be the same again. They need a steady flame in the middle of the darkness to impart light into their hearts. Imagine what the world would be like if we, the people of God, lived as light bearers.

What could happen if we offered the hope of Sunday to everyone who met us on Friday?