She walked along the path, keeping pace with the old women before her. The morning was bright, and her gray hair sparkled as the light shone through her hair. It was Mary, the mother of Jesus, and Salome whose feet crunched quietly on the path. Mary followed close behind them, clutching a jar between her hands.
The rest of her body trembled, but her hands grasped the earthen jar and it cooled her burning chest. It was a similar jar that held nard, the day she’d knelt before Jesus to wash His feet. Tightening her grip as she walked, Mary wished she had something as fine today. Jesus deserved it still.
“We’re nearly there,” Mary spoke, still walking, breaking the silence that had filled Mary Magdalene’s mind. Without meaning to, all the women quickened their pace. The hillside was in view. The sun was high. The shadows cast by thin tree branches crisscrossed the path like a crowded room.
“Mary! Mary, can’t you help me?” Martha carried a pitcher and disappeared into the group as quickly as she had appeared. Mary watched her sister go, and took a step to follow, but Jesus was just beginning another story and she drew near to Him instead. When Mary saw her sister again, she didn’t notice the tears of frustration filling her eyes. She only looked up into Jesus’ face.
Mary shuddered as she recalled His face on the cross, as she remembered the faces in the angry crowd. Jesus never looked on them with anger–not the jeering crowd, not the disciples, not even Judas. It was love that filled His face as if He couldn’t help it.
“It is a large stone,” the old women spoke ahead of Mary, breaking into her thoughts. “I hope someone will be able to move it for us.” Salome nodded, looking back at Mary, but no one was with them.
Jesus had come too late. Lazarus was dead and their hearts were broken. He’d lain in his tomb four days before Jesus arrived, but Jesus wiped his tears away and His voice boomed across the space between the gathered group and Lazarus’ tomb. “Take away the stone!” He called first. When the stone was moved, Jesus called to His friend, “Lazarus, come out!” The stone stood in the way of Jesus’ miracle that day.
“Who will roll away the stone?” Mary spoke again.
“Who will perform our miracle?” Mary Magdalene thought.
It was then that the women came to a stop, Mary nearly colliding into their backs. She pushed her way between them, not knowing what she hoped to find, but gasped as her eyes fell on the hillside. The stone was rolled away, and the opening behind stood gaping like a mouth. Nearer, nearer they crept, passing through the opening, they found a man in white robes–not their Jesus.
He was no place in the tomb.
Mary turned round and round, looking for Jesus, but the space was too small, too empty.
“Don’t be alarmed,” the robed man said gently. “You are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here. He has risen!”
