FROM THE RUGGED CROSS TO THE EMPTY TOMB

From the Rugged Cross to the Empty Tomb

“But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” — Romans 5:8

There’s something sacred about the days between Good Friday and Easter Sunday. It’s a quiet kind of holy—the kind that whispers deep into your soul, reminding you of both the weight of the cross and the wonder of the resurrection.

Good Friday isn’t just a moment in history—it’s the heartbeat of God’s love poured out for us. On that dark afternoon over two thousand years ago, the Son of God—perfect, sinless, full of grace—hung on a rugged cross. The sky grew dark, the earth shook, and the veil in the temple was torn in two.

“And when Jesus had cried with a loud voice, he said, Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit: and having said thus, he gave up the ghost.” — Luke 23:46

Those words still echo. “Into thy hands…” It’s a surrender, a trust, a yielding to the Father—even in death. Jesus wasn’t just dying a martyr’s death. He was carrying the full weight of our sin, our shame, our failures. Every wrong we’ve ever done—He took it all to the cross. Not out of obligation, but out of extravagant love.

It’s good to pause here, on Good Friday, and let that sink in. To let the cross do what it’s meant to do—humble us, soften us, and draw us near. Jesus didn’t just die for humanity in a broad, general sense. He died for you. He died for me. With every thorn pressed into His brow, every stripe laid upon His back, every nail driven into His flesh—He was thinking of us.

“Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows… But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.” — Isaiah 53:4-5

With His stripes—we are healed. That healing isn’t just physical. It’s emotional, spiritual, relational. The cross reaches into every broken corner of our lives and begins to redeem, restore, and renew.

But the beauty of the Gospel doesn’t end at the cross.

Three days later, early on that first Easter morning, the stone was rolled away. The tomb was empty. And the words of the angel rang out like a trumpet blast across eternity:

“He is not here: for he is risen, as he said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay.” — Matthew 28:6

He is risen! Death has been defeated. Sin has lost its power. And because Jesus lives, we now live too for all eternity.

That empty tomb changes everything. It means our past doesn’t define us. It means our battles aren’t fought alone. It means our future is secure. It means hope is alive and well, even in the darkest of valleys.

Sometimes, life still feels like that Friday, full of sorrow, uncertainty, and lots of unanswered questions. But Easter reminds us that sorrow doesn’t get the last word. The grave was not the end. There is always resurrection on the other side of surrender.

So today, if your heart feels weary, if life feels heavy, look toward the cross. Rest in the sacrifice. Receive the gift of forgiveness that only comes through Jesus Christ the Lord.

And then, cast your eyes to the vision of the empty tomb.

Walk in the newness of life that Jesus has made possible.

Let this weekend not just be a remembrance of something that happened, but a celebration of something that’s still happening. Christ is still redeeming. He’s still resurrecting things that seem dead,dreams, relationships, hope.

He’s still speaking peace to troubled hearts and calling us out of our hopeless situations.

Today, may you feel the depth of His love this Good Friday.

And may you walk in the fullness of His victory this Easter.

He is risen indeed!