Disclaimer: The Bible is God-breathed. I have had no hand it writing it or make any money off this short story. I also would like to say that this is merely one interpretation of what Mary's thoughts were on Easter Sunday.
There has been very little proofing on this short. I wanted to get it out as soon as I could. Please feel free to let me know if I have typo-ed.
Empty
"Early Sunday morning, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb-"
Mary stumbled on another rock nearly losing her precious cargo. Her whole being trembling in exhaustion, she stopped to gather herself again. She had barely slept the past two nights, spending the first night in horrified shock unable to sleep in her distress. The second night had been filled with nightmares brought on by His brutal end. How could such a terrible end have come to Him? He was to bring a New Jerusalem, to finally throw off the yoke of Rome and lead the Jews to a brighter future!
She had believed in Him with everything she was.
"And, now, He is dead." Mary thought as she clutched the cloth wrapped package closer to her chest.
Joseph and Nicodemus said they wrapped Him before laying Him in the tomb. They swore it. Mary doubted they had done a proper job of it, though. It had been so late in the night when- when – when He breathed His last. Hardly any time for a quality ceremony before Sabbath began.
He deserved a burial worthy of Him.
Grief hit hard at the reminder of why she was truly trudging through the garden at this time of day. Tears fell from swollen eyes. The world was swimming around her. Mary's heart pounded in panic. She braced herself against the nearby olive tree as memories fought for dominance.
-The sound of flesh hitting flesh
-"Is that how you answer the high priest?"
-Boos from a rabid crowd
-"Not this man, but Barabbas!"
- The hiss of the flogger
-"Shall I crucify your King?"
-The jeers of gambling men
- "Woman, this is your son."
- The sloshing of sour wine
- "It is finished."
- The stillness of His chest
Mary chocked on tears. (How could this be happening!?) She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to regain some composure. She had a job to do.
Through blurry eyes and the sky lightening to make way for morning, she could see the vague shape of the tomb.
Mary was almost there.
"-and found that the stone had been rolled away from the entrance."
Her supplies fell from limp arms. Mary's body followed soon after as her legs gave out.
Shock.
Horror.
Nausea.
The stone, that massive stone, had been rolled away. It sat laying innocently several feel away from the hole it was meant to cover.
Someone had moved it.
Someone. Had. Moved. The. Stone.
Someone had stolen their Lord.
ANGER!
The adrenalin brought on by her anger at the grave robbers breathed life into her weary body. She had to tell the others. He had to be found!
"She ran and found Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved. She said 'They have taken the Lord's body out of the tomb, and I don't know where they have put Him.'"
Silence met her rushed admission. Then, she could see the change in them. They needed to see it for themselves.
In their defense, she wouldn't have believed it either.
Wasn't the grave supposed to be guarded? With some of the fog lifted from her mind, she released it hadn't been. She hadn't seen anyone there. No one could have moved that without notifying the guards. It just wasn't possible. It must have taken several men just to move it an inch.
The guards should have stopped them before they got the tomb even remotely close to open. Where had they been? Why hadn't they protected His body?
Mary was jarred out of her thoughts as both men rushed back the way she had come.
Determined to find the truth, Mary followed after the two men, only to skid to a halt near the beginning of the garden. They were trudging back toward her. Simon Peter looked shell shocked.
She sympathized.
Now that someone else knew and had seen what she had seen, the ugly truth was eating away at her anger. That desperate anger was all that was holding back the tide of grief she had been engulfed in for the past two days.
She had to see one more time.
So even as the men walked past her, Mary rushed back to the tomb.
He just couldn't be gone!
"Mary was standing outside the tomb crying…"
Would she ever stop crying? Not only was He dead, now some horrible person had taken His body. The supplies she had brought earlier that morning lay in broken containers. The fresh bandages lay soiled on the ground.
She felt so helpless. Hopeless. Like a complete failure.
Suddenly, her neck prickled.
"-she glanced over her shoulder and saw someone behind her. It was Jesus, but she didn't recognize Him."
The sun behind his back shaded the newcomer from view, but Mary did not know who it could be. Neither of the boys had looked in any rush to tell the others of their findings. Everyone else was hiding. No one wanted the horrific death He faced to befall them as the lynch mobs awoke to the day after Sabbath - which had held them back.
The only people who could be coming here were the missing guards or the gardener. The thieves would not be so stupid as to come back and check back in on their work. Not after steeling such a high profile body. She just could not imagine it.
He didn't seem to be wearing any armor. That left only one option.
"'Why are you crying' Jesus asked her. 'Who are you looking for?'"
"Is this man an idiot? Or could he be mocking me?" Mary wondered. How could anyone look at the scene in front of them and not know what had happened? That sham of a trial was all the people were talking about. The smears against Him could be heard even behind the locked doors that she had hidden behind for the last two days.
No, he cannot look at these empty tomb and not understand what has happened here.
"She thought He was the gardener. 'Sir,' she said. 'if you have taken Him away, tell me where you have put Him, and I will go and get Him.'"
There was hysteria in her voice, but she couldn't lash out at this man. He may know who had been lay to rest here, but that didn't mean he was a party to the crime. She didn't know which she would prefer.
Innocent or guilty?
"'Mary! Jesus said."
Mary heart skipped a beat. Then two.
Only one person had ever said her name like that. The subtle inflection was purely Him.
Only Him.
The roller coaster of her emotions threatened to take her under. She clung to the present. She couldn't pass out now. Still, her mind was overwhelmed.
How was this possible?! What miracle was this?
"She turned toward Him and exclaimed, 'Teacher!'"
His smile out shown the sun behind Him as He looked at her.
He was alive!
She took a step forward. The horror/grief/sorrow/anger/pain of the previous days didn't matter anymore. They were been rolled away. Just like the stone. She wanted to know how this had come to be. Her mind hungered for the story, but not right then.
No, in this moment, she would bask in the light of the new morning and the smile He gave to her.
He is alive.
Many years later, Mary met the eyes of a man whose skin was darker than a moonless night. His head was empty of any hair. He was unlike any she had ever met. She wondered at his origins as he came closer to her on the street.
He smiled teeth that seemed to gleam white against his skin leaving her a little flustered.
"Christ had risen!" His voice was deep as he spoke, but she recognized the strength of his conviction.
She beamed at this stranger who was no longer such. He was a Christian just like her. They would be linked together as family forever beneath their Savior's welcoming arms.
"Christ has risen, indeed!"
Happy Easter everyone!
CHRIST HAS RISEN!
I have quoted directly from John 20:1-2, 11-16 (NLT).
Flashback scenes follow John 18:19 – 20:30 (NRSV).