Encounters with Christ: The Unbelieving World

BY Guest Writer

Text: Matthew 27:57-66, Matthew 28:1-15

My husband is deathly afraid of heights.

His fear only emerges every now and then. At the lake, for instance, when invited to go cliff-jumping with friends, and he declines. Or after finally reaching the summit of a long hike, when I step forward to peer over the edge, and he takes a giant step back. His fear isn’t debilitating—it’s just always there, lingering. So I didn’t anticipate his reaction when I booked our “doors off” helicopter tour over Hawaii.

There we were, safety floatation devices secured, boarding the Hughes 500, which felt more like a toy car than a helicopter. As the propeller sliced through the air and we lifted off, I could barely contain my thrill. My husband, on the other hand, could barely contain his breakfast.

Fear hits us all, sometimes when we least expect it, and sometimes in the exact same place,  over and over again—no matter how many times the pilot tells us we’re safe.

In the days after Jesus’ crucifixion, we see how several different groups of people reacted to fear. Joseph of Arimathea, a disciple of Christ, courageously asked Pilate for Jesus’ body, then wrapped it in linen, and placed it in a tomb he’d previously bought for himself. Jesus’ friends, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary, resolved to sit and wait and watch the tomb where Jesus was laid.

Meanwhile, paranoia had overcome the chief of priests and Pharisees. Together, they convinced Pilate to send guards to the tomb—just in case the story wasn’t over. They feared Jesus’ disciples would steal His body and proclaim His resurrection (Matthew 27:57-66).

A crew of centurions was sent to keep watch over the sealed tomb—a boring assignment; mundane work. Standing. Waiting. Guarding the grave of a dead man. What do they think is going to happen here?, they must have thought.  

But then, the earth shook. Rocks crumbled. The stone covering the grave rolled back, and an angel of the Lord appeared, his clothes white as lightning. “The guards were so afraid… they shook and became like dead men” (Matthew 28:1-4).

What were they so afraid of?

Maybe they were afraid of the earthquake, and afraid of the stranger strong enough to roll away the stone. Maybe they were afraid of being killed for treason, having lost the body of Jesus, an enemy of the state (Matthew 28:11-15). Maybe it was all of the above.

The centurions were afraid of dying, when the cure for death had been resurrected right in front of them.

Mary and Mary Magdalene encountered this same angel of the Lord. Trembling, they listened as an angel proclaimed that Jesus had defeated death, just as He said He would. He was risen! The story wasn’t over! What did they feel when they heard the news?

“So the women hurried away from the tomb, afraid yet filled with joy…”
-Matthew 28:8

Afraid yet filled with joy. I love those words!

If you are afraid of who God might be, you’re not alone. The story of Jesus’ gruesome death and quaking resurrection should shake us to our core, just as it did the guards at the tomb. But believers have this distinct and extraordinary gift: our fear lives side by side with our joy. He is who He said He is—the very Son of God. What a fearsome, wonderful thought!

On the day of our helicopter ride, my husband was so nervous he couldn’t even look out onto the island thousands of feet below. But as we rode over the mountains and the Pacific Ocean, he saw me—smiling and pointing, unable to contain my enthusiasm—and he could look. Still afraid, yet filled with joy.

Thank you, Jesus, that Your glory is greater than our fear. When the world cowers in fear or tries to explain You away, give us courage to hold out the gospel. For You have defeated death itself. You alone are our joy. Amen.

Claire Gibson is a freelance writer and editor whose work has been featured both locally and nationally in publications including The Washington Post, The Christian Science Monitor, and Entrepreneur Magazine. An Army kid who grew up at West Point, New York, Claire is currently growing roots in Nashville, Tennessee. She loves her husband, Patrick, and their dog, Winnie.