Gaining Life

(Final post in a three part series, which begins here.)

She sleeps restlessly, again, anxious for the task, wanting it done. She meets the other women that Sunday morning and they gather the necessary items, setting out before the sun is up. They arrive at the tomb just as the sun is peaking over the horizon and they see that the stone is gone. Mary Magdalene rushes in, suspecting something is wrong, and finds that the body she desperately wanted to be close to, is gone. She stands, panic setting in, darkness closing around her... When suddenly, light -- blinding light fills the cave and the women drop to the ground in fear. The angels say, "Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, he has risen, just like he said he would. Go tell everyone!" Then they are gone.

Mary is shocked. Confused. What? Perhaps the angels meant that Jesus had resurrected, his spirit going to heaven. But what had happened to his body. If Jesus was with God, then she would truly never see him again on earth. She would not hear his laugh. She would not touch the hand that healed her. She would not meet the eye of her beloved friend and feel the warmth of God's love in the depth of her soul. 

And as her loss sinks in, the tears fill her eyes. She does not know or care where the other women have gone. She stumbles through the garden, tripping on roots as tears obscure her vision, her mind quickly replaying cherished moments, moments of redemption, understanding, and love -- moments she would never have again. As this realization hits, she sinks to the ground. At this point she is no longer whimpering, or simply tearing up, she is all out bawling -- really ugly crying at this point, tears splashing all around her.

As always, Jesus sees her. 

He sees her sitting there, in her agony, and he cannot bear it. He has to say something. But Jesus is not coming from sadness or loss. Jesus is coming to her freshly victorious. The King of Heaven who had just won the world, made everything right and new and beautiful. He has defeated the last enemy and he is coming to her from a place of exultant joy. So, when he sees her, though she is crying... he is beaming.

It must be somewhat amusing to be the sole possessor of a wonderful secret, a healing secret, that you get to be the first to tell. He walks up to her kneeling figure and in a playful way, as if he were a stranger, he says, "Woman, why are you crying? Who are you looking for?" 

Of course she falls for it. Right in the middle of her sobs she looks up at him, unable to see through her tears. She says, choking on sobs, "Sir, I am looking for my master. He is gone and I don't know where to find him. If you have moved his body, can you take me there?" 

Jesus looks at her. She is collapsed on the ground, head bowed in loss, meanwhile his heart is bursting to share his victory -- and he says simply, "Mary!" 

She is, in a moment, transformed. Hope, though normally difficult to revive when so thoroughly killed, is restored to her in an instant. The darkness that had gathered around her is shattered as the sun itself breaks it forever. She who had been despairing, lost, alone, is restored again to life, life in him, not because he died, but because he is alive! There is a moment where she just stares at him, eyes widening, a new kind of tears filling them. Her brain tries to process the how of the moment, but her heart does not care. She leaps at him, unconcerned with social convention, wrapping her arms as tightly around him as she can. Never ever wanting to let him go again. 

Jesus holds her, feeling the exultation of finally having taken away the awful sting of loss and death. He laughs triumphantly. She catches his contagious laughter and laughs into his shoulder. He takes her hands from around his neck and holds them in front of him. She clings to his healing hands, clinging as if her life depends on them, afraid he will disappear. Maybe she is hallucinating, maybe this is just a dream. If so, she does not wish to wake.

He looks into her eyes, squeezes her hands and says tenderly, eyes sparkling, "Mary. I am here. I'm not going away yet, you do not have to cling to me. I need to see my brothers and tell them that I am going up to my father and your father, my God and your God. Go tell them I'm coming." 

She does not want to leave him, but she cannot disobey. She turns away, grudgingly releasing his hands, walking away slowly, watching over her shoulder to be sure that he is not disappearing. As she walks she thinks about Peter and John, Mary and Martha and Lazarus and Jesus's mother, Mary! She looks back once more at him standing, laughing, urging her to go... and she begins to run. The tears streaming down her face now are happy tears, tears of excitement as she hurries to find Jesus's mother and tell her that her son has returned to them, that he is alive and well in his beautifully whole body. 

Jesus's life could have communicated God's heart, his death could have saved us through atonement, but only his bodily resurrection could give us hope -- hope that we would see him, hope that we would live, and hope that we would hold those we have lost.