In my reading through St. Luke's gospel, I came to this text: Jesus cried out in a loud voice, "Father, into your hands I commend my spirit"; and when he had said this he breathed his last (Luke 23:46). Two verses later, St. Luke adds: When all the people who had gathered for this spectacle saw what had happened, they returned home beating their breasts.
Those who mourned had good reason to beat their breasts and weep. Their beloved Lord was dead. They would bury His body. He would be gone.
But as I read this passage I realized I have an advantage over those who wept at the foot of the cross. I knew Sunday was coming. I only had to turn the page and read the next chapter.
Over the decades of my life, I have had reason to mourn over many heartaches. Some have been quite significant. And each time great sorrow flooded my life, I rarely had the strength -- or the faith -- to see Sunday coming. And that is sad, because faith gives us an advantage over all things that bring us despair and hopelessness.
Faith, the "assurance of things hoped for and the conviction of things not seen" helps us see Sunday coming (Hebrews 11:1).
And with Sunday, life.