“After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week,
Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb.” Matthew 28:1
It was a tough week.
How much can a person take?
The women had seen more in the last few days – more injustice, more torture, more blood, more grief, more death – than some see in a lifetime. So brutal. So sad. So crazy unnecessary.
All of their hopes and dreams – dashed. Trashed. Gone.
Jesus was dead.
So they went to the tomb. They went to put more spices and perfume on His body – trying to preserve what was, trying to sweeten the stench of death, showing Him love the only way left to them. But He wasn’t where they left Him.
He wasn’t even how they left Him.
He wasn’t even dead.
Everyone keeps looking back to where Jesus was, but He’s not there. He’s not wherever we last dropped Him off: in our youth, at the party, during the one night stand, when we picked up the drugs, right before our spouse walked out, after the report came back bad, the monitor went flat, and the dirt closed over the grave. He’s not there. He’s here. He’s alive.
Jesus wasn’t just another good person come to a bad ending, because Jesus wasn’t just a person: He is God – and you can’t kill God. We can leave Him anywhere, but He never stays where we put Him. He won’t be left behind, or forgotten, or buried in some grave.
He is God.
He is alive.
He is for us.
He is with us.