Photo taken by Taylor Johns
They stayed to the bitter end, watching from afar. Tears falling until there were no more to fall. Desolation and horror cloaked the Marys as he struggled for air in his screaming lungs, and breathed his last.
A leaden acceptance of the cruel hand of man, brutally pushed it’s way into their consciousness. Their beloved, dead, the man who gave them purpose, who saw them as an equal, and liberated them.
He didn’t view them as a piece of property like other men did, or a mere possession with no voice, or just an object to warm their beds, and give them male heirs.
He saw them through God’s eyes, and through his own eyes, as loved.
Jealous men killed him, religious men who were supposed to be guides to these people. But they lied to the crowds and stitched doubt in their minds, making them forget the perfect words, the miracles, the outpouring of love and compassion.
These leaders whipped the crush into a frenzy with their passionate speeches of deceit. Blinded by their piousness, their power over the people became the tools of Satan.
He, the one they professed to despise.
Instead, they despised and murdered the only one who could save them.
Pierced through, on a cruel tree, his hands, head, and feet were covered in red as if freely painted with a vibrant yet brutal brush.
His blood spilled,
His blood on their hands,
His blood on our hands,
HIS BLOOD ON MY HANDS.
Crimson covered hands of evil men and women, and my hands are no different than theirs, sinner that I am.
After Joseph of Arimathea gathered the courage to ask Pilot for the body, he and Nicodemus took their lifeless Lord down from the cross and gently wrapped it in linen. They mournfully laid him in a tomb cut in the rock, and rolled a huge stone against the entrance.
Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of James must have followed Joseph in his quest to give our Lord a fitting burial.
We will never know if these women were furtive, hiding fearfully in the shadows, or if they made their presence known. But scripture says they saw where Jesus was laid.
If the story ended here, we would have no hope.
If it ended here, we could only despair that life as we know it, is all we get.
If it ended that day,
that hour,
that minute,
Satan would have won.
And for three days he partied hard and thought he had.
But on that third day, that wonderful, glorious day, the Marys would find a tomb empty of their Lord.
A beautifully empty tomb. An emptiness that transcends belief and defies all reality.
It yawned before them with a promise of forever forgiveness, and heaven all wrapped into THE GIFT OF ONE EMPTY TOMB.
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Matthew 28:5-6 But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here, for he has risen, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay.
-How does this reminder of his ultimate sacrifice make you feel?
-Praise God for his unfathomable love of us, to compel him to send his only son to die for you and me. Rejoice in the beautiful gift of the Resurrection this Easter.