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Easter in Transit

An unforeseen pilgrimage gave me new insight in the happenings celebrated during Easter.

At sunset before Good Friday we arrived at Dar Es Salaam. Unsure of whether to spend the night at a friend of a friend or to travel, we huddle and pray. We decide to cancel the arrangement and find the overnight ferry to Zanzibar.   

As Jesus was captured just after sunset, Peter and the disciples were uncertain whether to follow and risk persecution or stay at a safe distance. Peter follow the captured Jesus, and standing in the spotlight of the guard’s fire, betrays his beloved Jesus.

As we reach the port, we discover that there is no overnight ferry travelling from Dar Es Salaam to Zanzibar. Our plan backfired and as the friend of the friend arrives to greet us, we humble announce our predicament. Though he had offered his house, our budget did not allow for the taxi fair to his house.

The Sanhedrin accused Jesus of blasphemy and sentenced him to death, yet they were unable to carry out the sentence. They needed the Roman governor to sentence Him and Jesus had to face yet another court interrogation.

Upon leaving the port we asked the Roman Catholic church whether we could sleep in their yard. They refused and we were sent to ask for cover at the police station. With everything we own, we walk the distance to the proposed shelter. At the police station we were mocked. “How is it possible that you can afford a ferry ticket, but not accommodation? “ My debit card burned in my pocket, knowing that there would be enough personal money to cover accommodation. Midnight was closing in and transport was almost unavailable. Yet, I knew there was something we had to learn in this. Throwing money at this situation was going to rob us of what we need to experience.

Jesus was taken from the Sanhedrin to Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor. He could find no wrong in Jesus, yet the religious Jewish leaders demanded that He be crucified.  He was taken from one court to the other, never allowing himself to speak the truth in His full authority. He was not found guilty, He surrendered Himself. The guards mocked him, and he endured. He knew what He had to do. And He did not need to proof his identity to anyone.

As we walked back from the police station, the friend of a friend announced that his friends will come and fetch us. Exhausted , we put down our bags in front of the Catholic Church and wait for our saviours. This friend of a friend has stuck by us, helped us carry our bags, asked his friends to come and fetch us at the other side of town to take us to his house. With great concern for us  they stopped at the 24 hours convenience store, so that we can buy supper. They  blessed us with water and biscuits and refused any contribution to fuel.  At the house of our Good Samaritan – a one bedroom flat – we quickly ate our bread.  As our newly acquired friend and host lay down on my punctured self-inflatable mattress in the living room, I lay my head on his bed in his room. Undeserving and unable to return the favour, we ponder on his goodness and sacrificial care for us. In the morning our ways parted, possibly never to cross again. Yet, he taught me about grace. He highlighted my pride. He taught me to receive humbly.

On the cross, Jesus accomplished what I could not ask for and will never be able to repay. Unmerited favour grants me to opportunity of everlasting life.  Though offered freely, I so easily throw this back in His face. Will I be able to surrender my prideful attempt to accomplish salvation for myself? Will I humbly receive what Jesus has done for me?

On the ferry at 12:00 – 15:00 on Friday afternoon, the bright sunshine and calm seas form a drastic contrast to the darkness that fell as Jesus blew out His last breath 2000 years ago. Remembering how the curtain that separated the Holy of Holies tore in two, I look at the veil over the face of the lady sitting next to me. She has no idea what Jesus has done for her.  She does not know that she doesn’t need to accomplish salvation, that she cannot accomplish salvation.  Will I be able to tell her, will me life show her a better option? Or will I, like the disciples, stay at a safe distance? Will I, like Peter, in the moment lack the boldness to speak the truth that saved my life?

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