Three days. Where did He go?
Three days. Who really knows?

Many years ago, in a Midwestern town, there was a parochial school teacher with a lovely group of young children. As Easter approached, she was teaching them about its meaning, something I hope is still done today. She asked the class, “Where did Jesus go during those three days?” As you can imagine, hands shot up everywhere. She called on one eager child, who began confidently: “Well, Jesus got in a boat, and they traveled across a great sea. They came to a foreign land where there were Indians. They hunted, and they got into a fight, but one day they decided not to fight anymore. They killed a turkey, put it on the table, had a big feast, and became friends.”

The teacher tried not to laugh. “Oh dear,” she said, “you’ve just described Thanksgiving. That’s not Easter.”
Another child raised her hand. “Yes, please,” the teacher said. “What is the meaning of Easter? Where did Jesus go during those three days?” The child began: “Well, Jesus and His family were in a little stable. There were cows and donkeys and sheep. Jesus was a baby, lying in a manger. Shepherds came, and angels were singing… and when we went home, there was a big tree, and we opened presents.” The teacher smiled gently. “I love you, dear, but you’ve just described Christmas.”

Then she turned to a third child, very reverent, very serious. “Would you please tell us about Easter?” The child said: “Jesus came down to earth. He came to save us. He lived, and He died for our sins. They laid Him in the tomb… and on the third day, He came out, saw His shadow, and we got six more weeks of winter.”

I’ve told that story on many Easters, and you still laugh. That’s a good sign. Because the story of Easter never gets old. It ages well. And it touches us deeply. But it also raises a serious question: What really happened in those three days? We know the story leading up to it. We witnessed His triumphant entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. We saw Him break bread and wash the feet of His disciples on Maundy Thursday. We stood at the foot of the Cross on Good Friday as He was crucified. Day one. Day two. And then, day three. But what happened in between? Where did He go?

The Church, in its wisdom, has preserved a beautiful and profound teaching, something we echoed even today in our liturgy: “Holy God, Holy and Mighty, Holy Immortal One, have mercy upon us.” And in another ancient proclamation: “Jesus Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and upon those in the tomb bestowing life.” The true meaning of Easter is not only that Jesus rose, but that He went somewhere we would never choose to go. He descended into death itself, into hell, into Hades, the place of the dead. That may sound unsettling on such a joyful morning. We want lilies, music, sunlight, and the rising green blade. But we must never separate life from death. That tension, between death and life, is at the very heart of Easter.

One of the early Church Fathers, Gregory of Nyssa, described Christ’s coming into the world as a kind of divine strategy: bait set for Satan.[1] A startling image, but a powerful one. Because what looked like defeat… was actually victory. What looked like death… was the beginning of life. Even in Scripture, we are told that not everyone witnessed the risen Christ. As Saint Peter reminds us, He appeared to those who believed, to those who would become witnesses.[2] Which means this: You are not here today just to hear a familiar story and go home satisfied. You are here to know the truth of it, and to bear witness to it.

So let’s keep the story straight.
Jesus was not merely a good teacher.
Not merely a miracle worker.
Not merely a kind man.

On Good Friday, He entered into the deepest darkness, into the very abyss of death. There was an earthquake. The earth shook. And He descended to the dead, to those who had gone before.
Not as a victim.
But as a conqueror.
He went to release those held captive.
He went to overthrow death itself.

And here is the truth we must hold onto: Easter does not mean we will not die. It means that death will not hold us. Where we go when we die, that is of eternal importance. And Easter gives us the answer: life. You are the green blade that rises.[3] Because Christ says, “I came for you. I came with you and I came to bring you through.”

So what do you do with your “three days”? Each of us has them, times of darkness, uncertainty, fear, and loss. There will be storms. There will be rocky roads. There will be moments that feel like death. But keep your eyes on the risen Lord. Because He has already gone to that place, and conquered it. And I know many of you could raise your hands right now and say: “I’ve been there. I’ve known that darkness.” And yet, you are here. Which means the story is already working in your life.

So on this Easter morning, I encourage you: Tell the true story. Not just the story of His birth. Not just the story of His teachings. Tell the story of His victory. That because He loved us, He was willing to be broken, disfigured, and to descend into utter darkness, to confront and defeat the one who seeks to destroy and He overcame. Because Easter was coming.
But first…
there were three days.

[1] Gregory of Nyssa, The Great Catechism, 385 AD
[2] Acts 10:34-43
[3] Now the green blade riseth, 1982 Hymnal #204