Mary at the Tomb
I cannot even begin to tell you how that morning was. We were numb, numb from cold, numb from fear of soldier finding us before the dawn, but most of all numb from those days. Those terrible days.
I think I heard that old man's voice, old Simeon, in the garden that morning. A sword would pierce my heart, a spear had pierced it, that spear that hit my boys side - we all knew then, of course, that he was gone.
What had gone so wrong? He was supposed to be the One, he was supposed to be the savior, after all those years, all that hope, all those ugly scenes of hatred. The bitterness and disappointment of people, the spitting and the anger - so much for that, liar, just another hoax, you should be ashamed of yourself they shout at me.
But I am not ashamed. I am his mother. I am heartbroken, I am living on the outside of my body, I feel strong arms around me but they are a million miles away. They are being brave for me but we are all shocked, quiet, our light is gone. We might have the beginning of questions but right now we must look after the body - the body of my son.
There will be soldiers to bribe, but it is early, no one will ever know that they have let these poor women in - but we will know we did the right thing. We will get to say good-bye.
We creep through the streets. There is a curfew, of course, but there have been so many curfews and we have learned that the soldiers are lazy, they sit in groups around fires. It is a sort of agreement between us, we creep and they get to stay warm. If they see us they have to act, it is a fool who taunts a Roman soldier, but we understand them.
The air is cold and after yesterday I am afraid. I am afraid that this uneasy peace will not hold, that today the guards will have moved from their warm fires and will be looking for us, for His friends. They have made sure, after all, that we cannot play tricks, posted guards at a tomb. Guards at a tomb. My heart weeps. What do they think we are going to do - I just want my son to have the burial rites, it is decent and good.
We get to the garden which is thick with shadows. This is not a safe place in the dark, not for anyone, but we are a group of women. We huddle together and tell each other to be brave. Do you know the way, the other Mary does, she seems to know everything, she is a bright one but even the sparkle in her eyes is quieter today.
We can see from a distance, even in this barely half light, that things are not quite right , the tomb is not as we left it. The guards are not sleeping because the guards are not there. This is unusual, who would have been here and got the guards to leave. As we get closer we can see more clearly that the tomb is open. My heart jumps but I tell myself that this will make it easier, we can look after the body and probably get away before the guards get back or before they end some more.
We look at each other, all of us are trying to understand, all of us are afraid but all of us seem to be thinking the same thing - this is going to be easier than we thought.
And then things get seriously strange. He is not here - shouts a man. But this is not an ordinary sort of man - he is different somehow, and then I remember, this feels like that day all those years ago when God asked me, when God called me. The others start to weep,
"No," I say," listen, this is good." and suddenly I am so sure that something wonderful and unexpected has happened. I don't ask how or why, I don't claim to understand but I just listen,
"He is risen, he is not here."
Stupid as it sounds I hear this and I believe it. No question as to how. I still don't know why I was so certain but it was like someone had lit a thousand torches in my heart. The burial clothes were folded neatly. Mary Magdalene wandered off by herself for a while. We stayed,we would see him of course.
I have never made sense of that moment, of that discovery. All I know is that we had found him but more than that he found us and brought us home.
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