Crucifixion of Christ, Divine Surprises, Good Friday, Resurrection


I didn’t go to church on Good Friday.

But I read the Biblical account.

And all day long, I thought about the agony of Jesus and how his followers–especially Peter–must have felt as they watched him suffer and die.

The_Denial_of_Saint_Peter-Caravaggio_(1610) (1)

The Denial of Peter by Caravaggio, 1610

Public Domain, Friday

But Then

I read the account of the resurrection when the angel instructed the women who had come to the tomb,

“Go tell the disciples and Peter, He goes before you into Galilee; you will see him there, just as He told you.” -Mk. 16:7

All day the phrase looped through my mind.

Go Tell Peter.

The editor within, wanting to be correct, reminded me that Mark records it, Go tell the disciples and Peter . . .

Even so

Go Tell Peter echoed through me

As I arranged flowers

Set the table

Iced the cake

Tidied up in preparation for Easter dinner.

Easter table

Go Tell Peter 

Bounced off the tiles as I showered and dressed.

Go Tell Peter.

As I settled into my chair to read.


So I stopped.

And I finally asked,

“Tell him what, Lord?”

What I heard.

Go tell him that I’m a personal God.

One who calls him by name.

Not to condemn

But to forgive.

Not to punish

But to lift him out of the pain and depression brought on by his failures.


Go tell Peter

Dry those bitter tears.

Strengthen those wobbly knees.

I am alive.

I go before you to Galilee.

To the place we first walked together.

I will meet you there.

I will tell you what to do next.

And I will imbue you with power to obey.

REJOICE! The Cross & Tomb Are Empty!

Go Tell that Woman, Go Tell that Man.

I am alive.

I am opening the way for a new beginning.

Go back to where you first met me.

I will meet you there.

Or come to me for the first time.

I will show you what to do.

I will give you the ability and the will to follow me.

Go tell Peter.

Go tell.




So I ask you.

What are we waiting for?

Go and tell the Good News.

Christ the Savior is risen.

He is risen indeed.


He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. -Matt. 28:6

Easter, Resurrection


A rooster welcomes the sun’s ascent.

Peter, face buried in his cloak, cries all the louder.

“Hush, we say, lest they hear and come for us as well.”

“What’s that you say, Mary? You’re going where?

Yes. Go. Perform for Him what we dare not do for dread of evil men.

Wash His wounds. Anoint His body. Wrap Him in funeral clothes.”

Who’s that pounding on the door? “Mary?

What is this crazy talk? What mean, you Angels? Empty?”

Women cannot be trusted to get things straight.

“The Lord spoke to you? To tell Peter what?”

We must go and see with our own eyes, this of which she speaks,

Although I do not expect to understand.

It is as she said: Vacant tomb. Funeral clothes set aside.

Risen? What does this mean? I do not understand.

What did He tell her we should do? Go to Galilee?

He’ll meet us at home? Home. Then let us be off.  

I feel the darkness lifting as I race to tell the others,

“Gather your things. We’re going home.”

Now, where is your gloating, grim host of Hell?

Your minions weep and scream in torment,

While we shout for joy, “He lives.”

For we have spoken with our Risen King,

O, Happy Day, finally, we understand neither

Gates of Hell nor dankest grave could hold Him.

The Lord is risen. The Lord is risen, indeed.

Then go quickly and tell his disciples: ‘He has risen 
from the dead and is going ahead of you into Galilee.
 There you will see him.’ Now I have told you.” 
Matt. 28:7 NIV

Copyright © Reflections from Dorothy’s Ridge 2016. All rights reserved