John 20:13 “Dear woman, why are you crying?” the angels asked her. Because my dad’s gone, and I don’t know where he is. Because I saw him cry like that. Because twice, I held him as he cried. Because of the loneliness of the people where he lived. Because he left me a long time ago, and I miss him. Because our reconciliation came only when he was so out of it. Because I never saw him dead, and I don’t know whether he ever looked peaceful. Because I saw a stranger feed him. Because of his childlike moment of joy when the guitar man came. Because I gave him so little such joy, but maybe somehow I could have? Because no efforts to bring him relief or joy seemed to help. Because to visit with God, I had to visit my dad. Because while my dad was sick, Jesus […]
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John 20:11–14 The disciples then went back homebut Mary stood outside the tomb weeping.As she wept, she knelt to look into the tomband saw two angels sitting there…. They said to her, “Woman, why do you weep?” “They took my Master,” she said,“and I don’t know where they put him.” After she said this, she turned away and saw Jesus standing therebut she didn’t recognize him. I did a little bit of artwork related to this passage, which you can see by clicking here. A warm thanks to Designs in Light for the photography.
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John 19:38–42 [My paraphrase…] Two wealthy men who’ve been pretending not to be Jesus’ disciples come forward to claim his dead body, prepare it for burial, and lay it in a tomb. I’ve been working my way through the gospel of John, and for round about a year I’ve been mired in the crucifixion. Jesus’ willingness to suffer astonishes and puzzles me something awful, because the implications are really frightening. Back in March or April I wrote the following question on the bookmark that I keep in my breviary: Christ is not driven by a need to avoid suffering. What does life look like, knowing this? What did going forward with life look like for these two men who had just watched Jesus willingly endure suffering? For one thing, they stayed with him, tolerating the discomfort of a sight, sound, smell, and touch that just about everyone else wanted to […]
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