Being Jesus' Witnesses

It seems to me that Easter is not just a yearly moment to celebrate the easter chocolate and the sort of song ALLELUYA but the most fundamental thing is that we celebrating our faith, our victory, our freedom, in the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Over the last couples days I have had some reflections on the meaning of Jesus’ resurrection in my daily experiences as I always receive him every day from the hand of his beloved priest, in the Eucharist.

My reflection is ispired by the fact that Jesus had died in order to redeem our humanity, our dignity, to bring back our origin to the very beginning of creation, life everlasting. Therefore humanbeings have to suffer no more for nothingness but for something greater than that suffering. It would be done by the way of the cross, to follow Jesus and to love as he has loved us endlessly.
But today, as we see in the gospel (John 20:19-31), we catch a glimse of how the disciples reacted to Jesus' resurrection. It's mentioned that they stay at home and lock the door becuase they afraid of being persecuted by the authority for following Jesus teaching. Apart from what they were doing in the house, whether they were praying or sharing about Jesus, we clearly can see the mentality of the so-called the best friends of Jesus was like the cowards. They hid themselves. They had lost the corage. For some extents I would say that sometimes this mentality is still occurred in my contemporary life. We know that Jesus' name is the most popular name that ever. There are about 35% of world populations are Christian and of course they all recognise this name. But how many of them just stay in “a locked door” and how many “go out to spread the Risen Jesus”?
I came to my room and said to myself: “Maybe I also have spent too much time sitting down in my “room” and afraid of being outside there”. I am afraid not because they want to put me away, nor to persecute me, but because it simply nothing to do with them regarding Jesus. Jesus is likely out there, someone in history and he never know here, never seen. I am afraid of being known that I hardly believe in him. In this way only Jesus can judge my way. But I know that one day I have to be his witness in somewhere and sometime.

Bro Nestor.

Popular posts from this blog

Mgr. Martinus Situmorang visits Sydney

The House of Prayer