Resurrection

A competition entry
Based on the account of the Resurrection in John 20:1-18


The one whom Jesus loved. That’s the only name I will ever have, and will ever want. Before, things would have been different; it would have mattered that people couldn’t know who was the one that Jesus loved dearly, the one who was a witness to his marvellous teachings and miracles. But, you see, there was one thing that changed my whole way of thinking, and I’m certain it will do for others for years to come.

I am here to testify to Christ’s resurrection. I didn’t witness every detail, but I certainly saw that the Lord Jesus Christ has risen. It was extremely early in the morning, in fact it was still dark, and I was with some friends of mine – you may have heard of them; they are the other twelve disciples, except there were now eleven instead of twelve, due to Judas’ death. We were all in mourning for the Lord Jesus’ death at Calvary, and were resting at Lazarus’ house – we would have gone to our own homes but we were still terrified that the Jewish leaders were trying to find us and crucify us too. Mary Magdalene would have been with us normally, but she’d gone out early to Jesus’ tomb with some spices and myrrh. She seemed to be the only one convinced that this wasn’t the end, and that somehow Jesus would return. I hear they now call her the ‘Last of the Faithful’ – a well deserved title.

We were extremely depressed that morning. Not only had we lost our dearest friend, but it seemed our faith and labour in telling people that Jesus really was the Son of God was, well, mistaken. We couldn’t believe that we had trusted Him so much, yet we had been let down and had caused the entire city to hate us for no reason.

Just as we were about to give up and put the whole thing behind us, there was a huge bang as the door crashed open. Mary Magdalene was standing in the doorway, breathless with her cheeks red and hair falling loose from running. She came running to Simon Peter and I to explain what was happening – she said; “They have taken the Lord’s body out of the tomb, and we don’t know where they have put Him!”

We didn’t understand, but we knew that there wasn’t time to ask questions. We bolted towards the tomb, trying to remember what exactly Mary had said. Did she say that Jesus wasn’t in the tomb? How would she know – the tomb was sealed with a massive boulder that took several guards to move in the first place, so how would she be able to get in the tomb and see that He’s not there? Maybe she was just so overcome with grief that she was hallucinating. Maybe it was some kind of prank set up by the Roman guards.

We didn’t want to let ourselves believe that Mary was telling the truth – if it wasn’t then we’d be even more let down than before. More and more doubts were seeping into our minds, telling us to turn back and that it was impossible, but all that time something in our hearts believed, maybe just because they wanted to believe, that this wasn’t the end and Mary was right. There was never a journey so long – usually it would only take a few minutes, but our anticipation was rising so quickly that it seemed to last forever. People would stop and stare as they watched two fully grown men race through the towns, knocking over stands and baskets filled with fruit for the market as if they were children.

I managed to outrun Peter, who was being held up by an angry merchant, and I reached the tomb first. Something was different about that tomb. When Jesus was buried, all you could feel was gloom and misery, and even the plants started to wither. But now…it felt special. I could almost see a glow when I was a distance away, as if there was an angel sitting close by, but I was probably mistaken. The only words that can describe the atmosphere were holy and sacred. I hardly ever could use those words unless they were part of a psalm or hymn, I wasn’t even sure what they really meant, what they truly defined, but just being there at that time made everything make sense, and I knew that this was what those words were meant to describe.

As I drew closer, I saw what Mary was talking about. The stone was gone. I stopped in my tracks, and just stared for a few seconds. That huge boulder I was telling you about? Gone. All I could see was a huge gaping hole, leading into the tomb. Slowly, I took a few steps forward, and noticed some guards lying outside the tomb, possibly having fainted. They didn’t shock me much – I was just intrigued at what was lying before me. I peered into the tomb, but I didn’t dare take a step inside. Maybe I was being a coward, but I just felt like it was wrong, and that I couldn’t go into someone else’s tomb.

The sun was rising, and the tomb was in such a place that the first rays of sunlight peered in and lit up the whole tomb. Now maybe you’ll understand just a little why it felt holy. Still looking from the entrance, I could see some linen lying on the side, smeared with blood stains, but empty. No one was wrapped inside the linen.

I heard Peter’s footsteps behind me, and turned. He looked at me and paused, apparently not realising yet that the stone had been rolled away. He seemed more shocked at the look of disbelief on my face. Then the penny dropped. He looked at the huge uncovered entrance to the tomb, and at the bodies on the floor. He almost ran into the tomb, seemingly not worrying that he was entering a place that dead bodies were kept. But that’s the thing. There was no dead body. Peter beckoned me in and I took a good look for myself. Believe me, I tried every darkened corner, every place that He could possibly be hiding. He wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

That’s when it happened. I’d seen the empty tomb and I’d seen the linen that was still shaped as if there was a body inside, yet empty. But at that second I realised. We both realised. This wasn’t a practical joke set up to make fools of us. This wasn’t an attempt to steal Jesus’ body and humiliate people. He had risen. Everything He told us, every teaching and every prophecy, it all became real. We had never understood anything He told us about His death – we thought He wasn’t supposed to die, being the Messiah. But now it was as if someone had flicked a switch in our minds and we knew what Jesus had done.

He had not only come from heaven to dwell among men and to be crucified whilst being innocent, but He had risen and conquered death so that we could live! As we gazed in disbelief, our hearts were set on fire. We found peace pulsing through our veins, and we knew for the first time that Jesus was alive, risen and the Son of God.