The Power of a Three Letter Word

The Power of a Three Letter Word

“[H]e was crucified in weakness, yet he lives by God’s power.” 2 Cor. 13:4

“Yet” can be one of the most powerful words in the English language.  It’s like a giant hinge, taking something tragic and turning it sharply so we can see its inner beauty, strength and power.

That’s the story of Good Friday.  The truth is that Good Friday is only “good” because we know how the story ends.  But imagine how crushing the events of that day must have been for Mary, the disciples, and all of the other onlookers.  Jesus was arrested, beaten and scourged, leaving ragged cuts and bruises.  Then he was forced to carry his own cross to the execution site.  With nails piercing his hands and feet, he hung in quiet strength as he was mocked and jeered.  His body was racked with pain.  He grew dehydrated in the hot Judean sun.  In the end, he cried out one last time and bowed his head in death.

That could have been the end of the story.  Death is death.  It’s final.  It’s supposed to bring down the curtain and spell the end of our earthly lives.

“Yet…” 

That one word changes everything.

Paul reminds us in this verse that Jesus died an earthly death.  He was “crucified in weakness.”  The cross was real.  The tomb was real.  Jesus tasted death, “yet he lives by God’s power.” 

Christians can say wholeheartedly that Friday was “good” because of what happened Sunday--Jesus rose from the grave!  Death, you see, couldn’t contain the Son of God.  And by his resurrection, those who put their trust in him can claim the promise of eternal life:  “Christ would suffer and, as the first to rise from the dead, would bring the message of light to his own people and to the Gentiles.”  Act 26:25.

I pray that you may come to know this death-defeating savior for yourself.  That’s his greatest wish and your greatest need.

Have a glorious Easter!


�[H]e was crucified in weakness, yet he lives by God�s power.� 2 Cor. 13:4 �Yet� can be one of the most powerful words in the English language. It�s like a giant hinge, taking something tragic and turning it sharply so we can see its inner beauty, strength and power.