Sunday Morning—Day 1, A. D.
Starlight from the previous night faded into the golden sunrise as it conquered the sky. “Hurry, Joanna. Victoria, move faster.” Mary gripped the burial cloths tighter under her arm. Her feet padded silently on the packed earth pathway.
“We must reach the tomb before sunrise, or someone may stop us.” Mary’s heart pounded. She turned around to be sure the other women were close together. “Do not drop the jars, and listen for Roman soldiers.”
Joanna squawked. “What if they will not let us tend to His body? What if they mock us?” The others agreed, wide-eyed.
“You know that the Romans allow us to observe our burial customs. We cannot let fear keep us away.” Mary lifted her gaze above the olive trees. “Sunrise is almost here. Go! One more hill.” They rushed to the crest and down through the garden. Sunlight streaked over the horizon.
Joanna gasped, and dropped her jar. She froze as it splintered on a stone near her feet. The women bumped into her and squealed. “Where are the soldiers? What has happened?” The heavy stone rested next to the entrance. The tomb was empty.
Mary threw her cloths to the ground and ran to the hewn out, open arch into the tomb. “Where is He?” She held onto the cold doorway and peeked inside. The shroud lay on top of the stone slab, and the face cloth was folded and set aside. Mary faced the other women. “Where have they taken Him?”
Two men in dazzling apparel appeared near the tomb.
The women clutched at each other and bowed until their faces touched the ground.
A man asked, “Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember how He told you, while He was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be crucified and on the third day rise?”
The tomb is empty. He is not there. #EasterSunday2022 #EmptyTomb