2. Death-Scatterer

‘Woman, why are you crying?’

I stare, dumbstruck with disbelief, at the empty tomb. What have they done with my Lord? Where have they taken him?

Spices, sweet and pungent, fill the space where the stone once stood. The stone I saw seal the entrance. Now laid aside, dark interior exposed.

Where was the body I’d returned to anoint?

Instead: folded linen and a man in white.

I weep. As I have so many times before and will again. Weep for love of him, weep for his forgiveness, weep for the love he suffered to give me. Oh, where is he now that I need him so?

‘The One you are seeking goes ahead of you. Tell his disciples, he will meet you all there.’

I turn with tear-stained eyes to leave. My mind torn and my heart frozen: too dead to understand. Through the blur and haze of despair, a figure comes into view, standing before me.

‘Woman, why are you crying?’ He asks, softly, gently.

‘Tell me where he is and I will go to him…’ I stumble.

‘Mary.’ His voice full of tender affection and a smile breaking on his lips.

‘My Lord!’

I run to him. Fling my arms around his neck and hold on for dear life. Tears streaming; heart breaking, melting, burning.

‘My God!’

You are my very life and my breath. All that I have I give to you, and all that I am is yours.

This moment lasts forever. Outside time, his eternal embrace gathers me into True Love, brings me back home where I belong.

There can be no more crying now, no more sorrow or despair. He is risen, and I rise with him. Death defeated, death defied.

‘Tell them, Mary, I am ascending to my Father and your Father – to my God and your God.’

I tell them. And they see.

“Love is the child that breathes our breath,
Love is the child that scatters death.”
William Blake


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