The morning started like any other except there was a darkness, a heaviness that had settled over the world. Before she knew him, the woman lived her life without joy or love. How could one live with those two elements when a different man every night professed his love or even didn’t? It had become easier to not feel. She thought death would release her one day in the form of a crowd of men condemning her, but one man spoke differently. He had continued to speak differently from that day forward, and dare she hope his words would change her heart? Whether or not she wanted them to, those words penetrated.
This darkness that covered the world like a wool blanket had followed her for a couple of days. Although there was a sense of hope, she attempted to extinguish it. Her friend was dead. Nothing was more final than death. Though her heart had changed, how could the light that had filled her innermost being ever shine again? As she gathered the perfumes and gently put them in the woven basket, memories flooded her mind. Her friend laughing, smiling, crying, speaking, eating, interacting. So full of life and love. Settling her mantle on her head, she closed the worn, wooden door and began the walk toward…the tomb.
As her body made the journey in the present, her thoughts were in a place of the past. It was only when she arrived at the burial site that her consciousness shifted to now. Why was she here? Why did she torture herself? A horrid sight flashed before her eyes: rivulets of blood two days earlier, flowing like a river down the length of the cross to penetrate the dry and dusty ground. As water was used for seeds to grow crops, so did his blood act as the water for the seeds of holiness being planted in her and everyone he encountered.
She stopped suddenly. It was open. It wasn’t supposed to be open. What happened? Dropping her basket, she ran forward and stopped. Placing a shaky hand on the enormous rock barely covering the entrance to the tomb, she peered inside. It was dark but not so dark she couldn’t see. His body was gone. Her heart thumped wildly. No. He couldn’t be alive…it wasn’t possible. Did Peter or John or one of the others take the body? Why wouldn’t they tell her if they did? She had a right to know! But why wouldn’t they leave him in peace? Tears burned her eyes and she stepped back and turned around. In her haste she failed to see several jagged rocks which she half stepped on, causing her ankle to twist. Falling to the ground, her knees struck several more rocks and the physical pain mixed with the mental and emotional pain made her cry out. Grabbing one of the heavy chunks, she threw it across the path and screamed. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she rocked back and forth, weeping while the wind pushed strands of hair into her tears. She squeezed her eyes shut so hard the blackness gave way to pinpricks of color. A sense of dread and hopelessness seeped into her soul, filling her with desolation. The wind continued blowing harder and harder, pushing her to the side and forcing her to bend with it. She felt like dust…blown away…no peace…
Suddenly it stopped. She sniffed and raised her head slowly. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Whirling her head to the side she saw…nothing. Untucking her legs, she pushed herself to her knees and rose up to her feet. A light shone from inside the tomb, but when she walked closer and looked inside, the light faded and there was nothing in it – no candle or lantern. Behind her the sun finally broke through the clouds covering the valley. She felt the warmth as the sunlight spread over the land and finally onto her. Sighing, she knew the absence of her friend’s body needed to be reported.
As she rotated, a scream trapped in her throat when her gaze landed on a man not twenty paces away. Placing a hand on her rapidly beating heart, she rushed to him and said, “Sir, my friend’s body isn’t here. He was only buried two days ago. Something has happened to it and I need to find it. Please, will you tell me if you saw anything?” Her words tumbled out as the gardener glanced at the tomb behind her and smiled slightly. Why was he smiling? Looking back to see if she could catch the humor in the situation, her breathing seemed to stop altogether as fingers wrapped around her hand. She knew that touch without having to turn around. The gentleness of a babe yet the strength of a seasoned centurion. Her breath caught in her throat while a tear cascaded down her cheek. Her eyelids fluttered closed as she heard the voice she thought she’d never hear again.
“Mary.”