While it was still dark she came to the tomb. It was open. She didn’t dare look inside, but she knew he was gone. Her first thought—someone stole the body. She ran to tell the others. On her word, the men got up and ran back to the tomb. They went inside, one after the other. What she had said was true; the body wasn’t there. Both saw the remaining linens—the cloth that had covered his head in one place, the burial cloths in another. Seeing these, the second man believed…something. What was it he’d said to them before? Something about his work? his death? three days?? What was it…? Aaah…! The men returned home and the question lingered…what had happened? Where was the body? Grief-stricken, they sat, traumatized, teary-eyed. Silent.
Mary went back to the tomb. She bent down to look in. She saw the angels, but in her grief and confusion there was only one thought: they were the ones who had taken him away. She wanted to know—where did they take him? Where did they put him? Her blind resolve focused her intent—she was driven to care for him. Even now, especially now, after what she’d witnessed. In her mind he wasn’t yet quite dead. He needed her. She needed to see him. In that liminal space between reality and unreality, it was too soon to think of him as gone. His physical being was still the touchstone of what was real, and his absence unimaginable.
She turned from the void of the tomb, of emptiness itself, and saw someone standing there. She was still in that altered state, unable to see through the cloud of grief and disbelief. The events of the last few hours were so bewildering. Very little made sense, or seemed real anymore. She assumed the person standing there must be the gardener. Then he said her name. It was the one real thing—her name. Without thought she turned to face him, not only physically but symbolically and spiritually. She turned from the void of grief, from the incomprehensible tomb, and when she did she saw Life and Love standing there. “Teacher!” she said. (more…)
