Mary M: Sunday

When I think of that day, it was a day of contrasts.  I couldn’t sleep.  I was wracked with grief in the morning but full of joy a few hours later.  For many years I was oppressed.  Then He came and relieved me of the plagues that clung to me.  It is said seven evil spirits left me when Jesus healed me.  I don’t know.  I only know He changed me and I would do anything to serve Him. 

 

It was a day of contrasts because we all hoped Jesus was the messiah.  We believed He was.  We were certain of it.  Can a man do such miracles and not be sent from God?  But I saw the torn flesh as he carried His cross.  I watched Him die.  All the hopes I had were gone.  The messiah was dead and all those who once followed Him were in hiding.  If the leader was killed, surely they were next, right?

 

I can’t stress enough how destitute we all felt.  Just a few days earlier, Jesus rode into Jerusalem and everyone praised Him like a conquering king returning to establish his kingdom.  Expectations were never higher.  But then we were simply lost and never expected Him to come back from the dead.  I mean, he brought Lazarus back to life not too long before this but can a dead man bring himself back to life?  How is that possible if not the power of God be in him?

 

Since I couldn’t sleep anyway, when the Sabbath was over, went to the tomb where His body was placed.  That His body wasn’t left for the bird to pick apart or thrown outside the city to the trash is a miracle.  But in the back of my mind I kept picturing two men preparing His body in such a hurry.  I was sure it wasn’t done right and I wanted to give Him the burial He deserved.  When I arrived at the tomb, the stone was rolled away and His body wasn’t there. 

 

I didn’t think I could endure more grief.  Why would someone take His body?  They must have felt the tomb would become a shrine for people to gather and remember this great man.  I kept picturing people desecrating His body.  Mocking His body as they mocked Him while alive.  It crushed me and I cried.  Not knowing what else to do, I ran to where the disciples were hiding and gave them the news.  Peter and John then left to see for themselves and I walked back to the tomb. 

 

It was still dark when I arrived.  Peter and John were gone.  Again, I looked into the tomb and I saw two men there.  One of them asked, ‘Woman, why are you crying?’

 

I said, ‘They have taken my Lord away and I don’t know where they have put Him.’

 

Then I heard something behind me and turned and saw someone walking up behind me.  It was still dark and I couldn’t make out who it was.  Can you believe I thought He was the gardener?  Then He asks, ‘Woman, why are your crying?  Who is it you are looking for?’

 

I replied, ‘Sir, if you have carried Him away, tell me where you have put Him, and I will get Him.’

 

Then He simply said, ‘Mary.’

 

Instantly, the sound of His voice triggered recognition and a flood of emotion washed over me.  With the whole of my being I wanted to hold Him forever.  I cried out, ‘Teacher!’

 

Then he said, ‘Do not hold on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father.  Go instead to my brothers and tell them, “‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’”

 

So I rushed to the disciples and told them, ‘I have seen the Lord!’  I told them all that happened.  I could tell they didn’t believe me but my excitement and actions made them consider my words.  Of course, we women cannot testify in court. Our words hold no weight in important matters.  Why did Jesus have me spread such news?  I cannot say but my life changed.  I saw a man die and later saw Him alive.  Can anything be more miraculous?  Jesus rose from the dead and I saw Him with my own eyes.