Empty rooms can sometimes tell a pretty full story.
For instance, if you come downstairs into your empty kitchen and find chocolate sauce smeared over everything and a trail of chocolatey footprints leading into a closet, you can probably surmise what happened:
Your four-year-old went wild while you were busy upstairs and is now in hiding.
Or if you come home to an empty living room only to discover the sofa’s cushions have been chewed to bits and there is stuffing all over the place, the room itself tells you all you need to know: that your naughty dog shouldn’t be left alone so long.
Perhaps you arrive back from vacation and each empty room shows evidence of having been ransacked. A window was broken, drawers have been pulled open, and valuable items are missing. Police detectives find additional clues in the house that help them figure out the identity of the burglar.
Investigators (and parents) are masters at being able to figure out what story an empty room tells.
I wonder if we can use our detective skills to determine what the empty tomb of Jesus conveys?
If you’ve ever been to Paris, you’ll know that many of its bridges have a story to tell.
The Pont de la Concorde is no exception.
This stone-arch bridge across the River Seine connects the Place de la Concorde with the National Assembly.
Construction of the bridge started during the late 1700s and continued even during the turmoil of the French Revolution. It was completed in 1791.
Interestingly, some of the stones used for the Pont de la Concorde were sourced from the rubble of the demolished Bastille prison. The bridge’s architect, Rudolph Perronet, said this was “so that the people could forever trample the old fortress.”
Today you can traverse this bridge and trample under your own feet the stones from the once-feared stronghold which imprisoned so many.
It’s a satisfying feeling to show your contempt for something vile by actually stomping on it, isn’t it?
Scripture tells us that Jesus will do something similar:
Each Easter when I was a girl, my Dad used to create elaborate Easter egg hunts for me. They weren’t the regular type of Easter egg hunt, however, where little egg-shaped chocolate treats are scattered around the house or yard and it was just a matter of wandering around and finding them.
No, nothing was that simple with my Dad. Instead, there was one big treat for me to find, like a large chocolate Easter bunny. And I couldn’t just wander the house searching for it, either.
I had to solve a fiendishly clever riddle my Dad had devised, which would lead me to look under a certain object in the house. There I’d find another riddle which I had to solve in order to find the next hidden clue. I’d be led from one clue to another, and finally to the prize itself.
Sometimes I think the way God leads us is a little like this.