I think they were the worst two nights of my life. I don’t think I had slept at all. The pain of not being able to hold him: to go to him and say those last words of love even though he could not hear. It was agony. Some of you may have experienced it but my prayer is that you never do.
A day of agony watching him die, then the night of torment before a Sabbath that stretched to eternity, and into last night: a night of drawn out pain until finally there is just a glimmer of dawn. The Sabbath was over and I could go and see my Lord, though how on earth I was going to move that stone I did not know, but I just had to go.
I ran down the road into the town, and then out to place where they had laid him in Joseph of Arimathea’s tomb, and imagine my joy when I saw the stone lying to the side. I flew those last few steps and ducked into the tomb itself, with my heart pounding.
Empty! It is empty! I think I started screaming – not in words just a primeval scream of pain, anguish, terror. I cannot explain but every part of me was screaming. It seemed that my muscles, sinews, inner organs were all screaming as my heart was breaking.
I don’t know how I made it back to where they were all staying. All I know is that I stumbled up to Peter and John and, gasping for breath, sobbed “they have taken our Lord and we don’t know where they have laid him!”
The other disciples gathered round asking questions, but Peter and John had taken off for the tomb to see for themselves if what I had said was true. As soon as I could, I followed them as I wanted to hear if they had found anyone to ask where Jesus was. I had to know.
Just as I toiled up the last steep climb, I met Peter and John coming back down the path. They told me that they had both been inside the tomb, but had found it very strange as the burial clothes were still lying there, exactly as they had been wrapped around Jesus’ body, though the cloth that had covered his face was folded up and lying to one side. They asked if I had done it. I just shook my head. They said there was no one to ask what had happened so they were off into the town to see if they could find out any more.
I walked on to the tomb. I know he was not there but somehow I felt closest to him in the last place he had been. I stood for a time outside the tomb with my head laid on the cold stone, tears pouring down my face. The pain was too deep for screams now.
Eventually, I braced myself to look inside the tomb itself and imagine my amazement when I saw two people, dressed all in white, sitting where Jesus had been laid. One was sitting where his head had been and the other at his feet. They were somehow filled with light. I know now that they were angels but I did not understand that at the time.
One spoke to me and asked “Woman, why do you weep?” Well, at that my tears began to flow even faster and I think I mumbled something along the lines of “They have taken my Lord and I don’t know where they have laid him.” As I spoke, I was turning away as my pain was too deep to share with others but, as I ducked back out of the tomb, there was yet another man standing in front of me.
Not wanting to see anyone and not being able to see clearly through my tears, I was hurt when he questioned me too. “Woman, why are you crying and who are you looking for?” Then I thought, if this is the gardener then maybe he will know what has happened, so I asked “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him and I will get him.”
Then time stood still. The beloved voice of my Lord said my name. Just that one word ‘Mary’, but I knew it was him. I did not know how this was possible but my heart leapt for joy and I called out his name in reply “Rabboni” Lord, teacher, master. He was all I knew and wanted.
I stepped towards him wanting to throw myself at his feet but he stepped back and said “Don’t cling to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. Go to my brothers and tell them, ‘I ascend to my Father and your Father, my God and your God.”
I did not understand that at the time but, talking it over with the other disciples in the days that followed, we came to understand that in dying Jesus fulfilled the Day of Atonement as had been practiced since the days of Moses. He is both the sacrificial lamb, sacrificed for our sins, but also the scapegoat, who symbolically took our sins into the desert. Jesus had been sacrificed for us on the cross two days ago but now, as the scapegoat, he had to carry our sins to God.
None of that was important at that time though. All that was important was that he was alive. He amazingly, wonderfully, gloriously, had risen from the dead. He had said he would but we had not understood it at the time but now he has and is. We still did not really understand but were so filled with joy that nothing else mattered. We would work that out later.
My joy was greater even than my grief. It is so hard to explain but Jesus was alive and so in some way, mysteriously, so was I. So are we! Yes, my body was still earth bound but my spirit was free. I knew that I too would rise just like Jesus when my time came for my earthly body to die. I cannot explain it properly but my prayer is that you too come to understand that you have nothing to fear because in Jesus you have life and you are free to live it. Jesus once said ‘I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” Those were just words when he said them, but now they are truth. We have life in him. That is what he meant when he said. “I have come that they may have life and have it to the full.”
There is lots more to this story because we did see him again. Even that evening he came but that’s not only my story. I wanted you to know and understand how I felt the grief and the joy that wonderful day and that you too, as you walk with Jesus, will know grief but I pray that today, and in all the days to come, you can walk in joy and freedom because Jesus is alive.
Jesus is alive.
God Bless and Happy Easter
Prudence
Comments