This Easter and Good Friday, Glenn speaks to the lonely, those in despair, those who have dealt with pain for far too long. He was once in that same place. But the message of Easter, he says, isn’t just history. It’s our story, if we surrender and come to Christ. Glenn ponders the weight Jesus must have felt on Thursday night as he knew what was coming on Friday. As he walked through the garden, as he was betrayed, as he was beaten by the Romans, abandoned by his own people and disciples, and nailed to a cross. But he had a purpose for all of it. And just like he called Mary’s name at the empty tomb on Sunday, he calls to you today. “He’s alive and He’s waiting, scars and all, arms open,” Glenn says. “Give it up and walk away from all that haunts you. Surrender. Live.”
Transcript
Below is a rush transcript that may contain errors
GLENN: So last night, Jews all over the world gathered for Passover. So I want you to picture Jerusalem 2000 years ago, at Passover. And the air is heavy with the aroma of unleavened bread. And the streets are buzzing. Because people have come from all over Israel, to be there.
The sun sinks. It's casting a golden glow. But a shadow is hanging over one man, because he knows what's coming.
Jesus. What must his -- what must the weight of last night have been like?
For the man, Jesus. Because he knows what's ahead. The nails. The thorns. All of it.
Yet, he presses on.
Why?
Because that's the deal he made.
That he loves us. He was the one that could bring us back home.
That's tremendous love.
And a love so relentless that it defies death itself. So it's Thursday night. Passover meal. Jesus gathers his 12 disciples in an upper room. Oil lamps flickering casting long shadows. They eat. They laugh. They're unaware of the betrayal that is sitting at the same table with them. And Jesus breaks the bread. His hands aren't shaking. His voice is steady. His eyes are heavy.
And he says something that must have been very odd. This is my body. Broken for you.
They each have some of the bread. Then he lifts the wine. This is my blood, shed for you.
What was going through their mind?
Remember, they're looking for the messiah.
They -- some of them believe that he is the messiah. The Son of God.
You know, I can't speak for Judas. But they're expecting a warrior. And they -- they're not expecting this.
They're waiting for something big to happen, that not this.
The weight of it, must have been crushing to him, being there alone.
Nobody understands. So he goes to Gethsemane. It's an olive who don't have to. And it's right on the top of the hill, overlooking the Temple Mount. And he leaves the Apostles, just says, pray with me.
And he leaves them. And goes off himself.
And he collapses to his knees, under the twisted branches of these trees. And the moon is hanging low by now. The night, silent. Except, perhaps for his silent and ragged breathing.
And that's when he says, Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me.
You know, it says that blood came out of every pore.
And I never understood that. I thought maybe it was a metaphor or something when I was younger.
It's actually, it's not a metaphor. It's a real, very rare condition, where extreme stress will rupture all of the capillaries right underneath your skin, so you actually sweat blood. That's the pressure he was under.
His body had to have been trembling and racked with anguish and pain. He's not just sweating. He's bleeding all of us clean. He begs for escape. And then he knows.
And he says, your will, not mine.
Why? Because he knew we were going to need it. And here we are with our secrets, our shame. He saw us, and he chooses the cross.
And Judas slinks in, his kiss, he knew.
He said somebody, earlier. Some -- one person at this table is going to betray me tonight.
So the soldiers swarming, torches are blazing, swords are drawn. Peter grabs one of the swords, and he actually cuts the ear off of one of the soldiers. And Jesus stops him. Stop it!
That's not my path. And he picks up the ear, and he hears. He heals the soldier.
They bind him. They drag him through the streets. Sanhedrin's trial. Just total farce. False witnesses.
You know, spit, fists, everything else.
Caliphas nears. Are you the Son of God? And Jesus says something that seals his fate: You have said it yourself.
Truth, not blasphemy. Truth. That saves us. Not him. So my -- he's before Pilate.
Bloodied and silenced. This happens. Back and forth, until this time of day. And the crowd is beginning to gather. And they're screaming crucify him.
And Pilate washes his hands.
But no water erases that stain. Jesus is then scourged.
Whips, studded with metal. Just shred his skin.
I'm on my way, in two weeks, to see the shroud of Turin.
The actual shroud of Turin.
And I believe that to be actually the burial cloth. After you study it, a little bit. Just even a little bit.
You see what has been done to prove or disprove. And the best they can say is, you know, on the -- on the negative side is, I don't know.
I don't know how it happens.
They mock him. They drape him in a purple robe.
His back is just shredded. His legs, on both sides, his chest.
They jam a crown of thrones into his scalp. And these aren't little roses. I think they're called Bethlehem thorns. And they're like three, 4 inches.
And they just push it into his scalp. Blood is streaming down his face now.
But he still has burning eyes, purpose for you. The cross -- part of the cross, lay across his shoulders. Splintered. It's heavy. He stumbles. Every single step is a testament to love. Somebody is pulled out of the crowd, Simon is pulled out of the crowd. He's forced to carry it.
But Jesus is still bearing all the weight of what's coming. At Golgotha, the place of the skull, nails are actually put through his wrist. And then through his feet.
Can you imagine what that he felt like to just have the -- the -- the vibration of that hammering? And I've always seen when they slide the cross into the ground. And it settles. You know, his shoulder was dislocated, they think, in the streets. So, you know, the only way you breathe, on a cross, is you have to force yourself to stand up straight, as much as you can. Because once you start to sag down, your lungs start to collapse.
And so with a dislocated shoulder. He's pulling himself up, so he can breathe.
Jeez. The sky is darkening now. He's -- he's executed with two thieves, one on each side.
One mocks him. The other one says, remember me!
And at that moment, Jesus is offering grace. Can you imagine? Today, you'll be with me in paradise.
He's dying, and he's saving. He sees his mom, standing below.
John is beside her. Praise again. Jesus looks down and says, woman, behold your son.
Love, even in agony. The crowd cheers. Save yourself! Save yourself! If you're God, save yourself! He doesn't, because of us. Because of me. Because of you. He saw us. He knew we were going need to this. He takes it. For him to really be man and suffer, he had to be separated from God at this point. My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Jeez. God didn't turn away from him. He turned from the sin that he was bearing, our sin. And at the ninth hour, he just says, it is finished! Victory, not defeat. The debt is paid.
The temple veil tears. God's presence is unleashed. The earthquakes. Rocks split. Centurion stands at the foot. Says, surely, this was the Son of God.
They pierce his side, just to make sure that he was dead.
Joseph of Arimathea lays him in the tomb. And they sealed him up. Sealing hope, away. Disciples have no idea what's going on. No idea. They're hunted now. Are we going to die like that? I thought he was the savior? What is happening? Now he's dead. Nothing more humiliating than being crucified to a tree. That was the most humiliating thing that could happen. That's clearly not the savior. The disciples scatter, broken, the world falls silent. Is this the end? No. More in a minute. You know, selling your house used to be simple. You mowed the lawn. You vacuumed all the carpet. Shoved everything into a closet, and hoped nobody noticed.
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(music)
GLENN: So imagine, just on Easter. On Palm Sunday. He's riding in triumphant. And everybody is so high. And saying, wow. This is going to be great.
Now he's dead. Now he's in a tomb. Now it's sealed. Silent.
The apostles are like, what just happened?
It's only been 24 hours!
Disciples are -- they hide.
Hope buried with Jesus. Mary Magdalene weeps. Her heart is just raw. Her world now feels empty.
But there's a pulse in the air. There is a pulse in the air. Mary has been sleepless, broken. She walks to the tomb, sits pre-dawn. She has spices in her hand to anoint his body. Final act of love, and the ground quakes as she gets close. She falters, her breath catches. What is it? And the stone is rolled back.
Now the tomb's mouth is gaping open. And her heart lurches. Oh, grave robbers?
She runs to Peter and John. She says, they've taken him! They race. John outruns Peter.
Pierced inside the linen cloth, folded. The head cloth, separate, but empty.
Peter barrels in. Baffled. The tomb is hallow. No trace of Jesus anywhere! They leave. Days.
Mary is just stunned. She just stays there. She doesn't know. She can't abandon him. Where is he?
She's sobbing, and the sobs are echoing off the stone, and then there was movement.
Two radiant figures are sitting where Jesus was supposed to be laying.
Woman, why are you weeping?
She turns. She thinks it's a gardener.
She says, sir, if you have moved him. Just tell me where.
It's not a gardener. It's Jesus. And he just says one word. Mary. Soft, alive. Her breath stops. Those eyes that voice. It's Jesus.
Rabbi! Teacher! He's alive. Flesh and bone. Scars and all.
He says, go tell the others.
She runs, bursting, I've seen him!
The disciples have locked themselves away, fear choking them. Suddenly, you know, Jesus is amongst them.
He shows them the hands, the feet. The nail marks remain proof of his love. How could he live?
This is a very rough and short telling of probably the most story -- not probably. The most important story in all of human history. But it's our story.
It's -- the only story, probably that matters. He's already done all the hard work. He bled, literally from every pore, carried our sin, faced the cross, shattered the tomb.
Death couldn't hold him!
Nothing can!
And just like he said, Mary. He's calling your name.
I don't need it. I'm fine.
And perhaps, maybe that's try for you right now. But there will come a time, in all of our lives where despair will overtake us. Where our mistakes will just seem to be just too overwhelming.
Lay it down. Lay down all of the lies that you now believe about yourself, that you're not enough, that your mistakes define you, that your pain and loneliness are yours forever. Because that's who you are, really.
They're not with you forever. It is the strangest thing. Everything true with God is usually the opposite.
Don't fight. Surrender.
Surrender. It's hard to let go of the shame that you've carried your whole life. Or the wounds you've nursed. The voices that you whisper to yourself.
Because at least it was in my life. That's all you know. They probably have been with you for so long, that you believe that that's all you are. And without them, what are you?
Nothing. There's nothing else inside. I'm not good enough.
There's nothing else good inside.
I'm just this. Lies.
This Easter, I just want to leave with you this message: I've made that awful, awful journey. And it is not easy. But it is so worth it. This weekend, I encourage I to listen to hear his voice. Soft as it was for Mary. Fierce as it was on the cross. Let it go! Come to me. Step out of the shadows. Lay down the weight. It's not about being perfect. It's about being his. And he's already paid the price. He's fought the battle. Won the victory. Now all you have to do is surrender, because he is alive. He is waiting. Scars and all, open arms, come to him. Give it all up, and walk away. Surrender. And live.
