Monday Motivation: Can This Be Real?

Friends

“Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the entrance” (John 20:1, NIV).

 

Have you ever found yourself in the pit of despair? It is a desperate, lonesome place. The pit is dark, the walls steep. You huddle there on that dank, musty floor, staring up, searching for the light, for the way out, but finding nothing to guide you, nothing to comfort you, not even a tiny glimmer of hope.

 

That’s where Mary Magdalene found herself in the wee hours of that Sunday morning. The fall had begun Friday afternoon, and with each passing hour, she had slipped further and further down into that deep, dark pit. By the time the sun sank below the horizon on that Saturday evening, Mary was firmly  ensconced in a deep well of darkness, a gut-wrenching, soul-crushing place of despair.

 

What a week it had been. It had started so well, so upbeat, so joyous. She had seen her Jesus enter Jerusalem, the street lined with cloaks, the palm branches waving in welcome. She had heard the crowds cheering, the “Hosannas” ringing in the air. “Blessed is He who comes in the name of The Lord!” Her heart had leapt with joy at the sights and sounds. The people were thrilled to see Jesus, her Jesus, her teacher, her friend. That had made her heart glad. That had made her smile.

 

She had seen her friend angry earlier that week. It surprised her because He was so rarely angry, but he was certainly furious that day. He had walked into the temple courts and seen the money-changers and the dove sellers, and He lost His temper, over-turning the tables, his words lashing out at the merchants. Still, His temper quickly flamed out, and His heart grew tender as He saw the lame, the sick, the blind coming to Him, desperate for healing.

 

On Thursday, she had seen the disciples readying the Upper Room for the Passover meal. Could it be only three days ago? It had all seemed so normal, a simple Passover meal shared together with Jesus, and yet, the ending of that evening had been anything but simple.

 

Tears rolled down Mary’s cheeks as she recalled what had happened on Friday. Friday…oh, how it felt like a lifetime ago. So much had happened in such a short time. She had heard the awful news that Jesus had been arrested in the night. She had seen the crowds in the streets, heard their angry catcalls. The crowd was fired up, furious, fast becoming a mob, and Mary feared for her Jesus. She feared for herself and the other women with her.

 

Then she heard their cries, and she couldn’t believe her ears. “Crucify! Crucify!” How can this be? Weren’t these the same people that had sang out “hosanna! Hosanna in the highest!”? Hadn’t they been the ones who spread their cloaks on the road to welcome Jesus? Now they were cursing Him, mocking Him as He struggled under the weight of the cross the soldiers forced on His bloodied shoulders

 

She had held tightly to the arm of His mother Mary, and together, they waited at a distance while the soldiers prepared the cross. Mary squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the horror, but she couldn’t stop the sound, couldn’t blot out the blows of the hammer, couldn’t escape the ping of the nails that pierced His flesh. How could this be happening? How can this be real?

 

But it was real. She had seen the anguish on His face, the blood trickling down His cheek. She had seen the sky grow dark, heard Jesus cry out, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken me?”

 

As His words pierced the stillness, her soul cried out, “Why, Lord, Why?” But there were no answers. Jesus had taken His last breath. Jesus was gone.

 

There was nothing left for her now, nothing to do but follow Joseph as he carried the body away. She stood in silence as he laid Jesus’ body in that dark cave, her heart hammering against the walls of her chest as she watched the stone being rolled into place. It was finished. It was over. He was gone.

 

The only thing left to do was to anoint the body, to give her Jesus a proper burial. That’s why she was up so early on that Sunday morning. Only the starlight lit her path as she trudged up the  hill.

 

The garden was quiet, empty, just like her heart. She moved toward the cave, but then recoiled in horror. The tomb stood open, the stone rolled away. Tears flooded her eyes as she realized what must have happened. Someone had stolen His body! How? Why? She must tell Peter and the others! She turned and ran.

 

Mary had followed Peter and John, and through the mist of her tears, she had seen them enter that dark place, and then stumble out, wordless, dazed, dismayed. When they had gone, she summoned her courage, drew near the entrance and peered inside. There was no Jesus, no body, only empty grave cloths. Her brain was spinning in circles, her damp eyes playing tricks on her. Who was that, standing there, clothed in white?  Angels? What? Where was the body? Gone? How? Why? How can this be real?

 

She was sobbing so hard that she nearly missed the voice. “Woman, why are you crying?”*

 

A sob nearly stole her voice as she stuttered out, “They have taken my Lord away and I don’t know where they have put Him.”*

 

Again came the question, “Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?”* The gardener, it must be the gardener. Maybe he will know where they have taken Him. “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.”*

 

She lost all control then, the sobs wracking her body in waves of grief. She couldn’t see the man standing before her, but she heard the voice. “Mary.”

 

Her head jerked up, her wet eyes now wide open. She knew that voice. Could it be? Could it be Him? Could this be real? “Raboni!”

 

It was real! He was real, standing there before her, calling her name. Alive! Jesus was alive! In an instant, despair became joy, and with joy, came hope!

 

PRAYER

O Glorious and Victorious Lord Jesus, Praise Your Name, Praise Your Name forevermore! You are alive, the stone rolled away, the tomb empty, the grave cloths set aside. You are risen, You are risen indeed! You saved us. You conquered sin and death once and for all! All hail the power of Jesus’ Name! Jesus is alive!

In the Miraculous Name of Jesus, we give our thanks and praise,

Amen

 

Easter Blessings,

Anita

 

*Excerpts above adapted from John 20, NIV

-APS 4/1/2024