The Resurrection: The Truth

“How can we know the resurrection of Jesus actually happened?”

Sam knew his days were numbered. Like others his age, he often wondered what would happen to him after he died. He had always been cynical about religion.

“No one has ever proven it.”    

Rebecca, his daughter, had flown in from Florida for the Easter weekend. She gazed at his tired face and pain wracked body, then reached over to hold his wizened hand. It felt cold to the touch. She took a comforter from his bedroom drawer and wrapped it around him.    

“Dad, when I was little, you said there are some things you just have to believe, like cocoons turning into butterflies?”     

“Those can be proven scientifically, right?”

“Even scientifically, it comes down to the word of someone, right? Then, it was up to anyone who doubted the truth to disprove it. You always said that double rainbows were real and the only way we could know for certain, was to see them.”

“We looked for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow too, but never found it.” Her father began to smile recalling the many, happy days they had together.   

“How many people would it take to say something before it would be accepted as truth?” asked Rebecca. 

“You told me that the word of one good man would be enough. For me, that good man was always you. 

What you said I believed to be true even though I grew up and found some of the things you told me were said in fun.”

“If just one good man said that Jesus had been resurrected, I should accept that as truth?”

“A good man would not lie,” said Rebecca, seeing her father’s peaceful expression. “The Lord is risen indeed, and has appeared to Simon!” 

“Simon was a good man, one of His Disciples, who would have told everyone what he saw,” Rebecca’s father said, quietly. “No one ever proved that the Resurrection of Jesus did not happen, either,” he said, as he drifted off to sleep.

“No one ever will,” replied Rebecca softly.