No one, it seems, was expecting a resurrection. The Gospels agree: The women (no matter how many) who ventured to the tomb in the early morning were prepared for death, not life. Matthew, Mark, Luke and John tell of no one who awoke on Easter morning and set out confidently toward a tomb they expected to be empty. When and how the stone was rolled away is a matter of conflicting memory, but it was not where it was supposed to be.
False stories can be pieced together so that every point makes sense and everyone’s version coordinates. But when real, life-changing things happen, the specifics can get a little fuzzy.
When my first child was born, I couldn’t tell you if it was two nurses or three in the room. When, as a toddler, my son ran away in a store, it was only two minutes before he was found, or was it hours? I can’t say for certain, but I can say that I felt “fear, and great joy.” In both cases, what mattered was not a point of order, but a person; not a literal moment-by-moment recounting, but a life begun, a life saved.
This message is excerpted from “Alleluia! Hallelujah!” by Meghan Johnston Aelabouni in the April 2018 Gather magazine. Today is Easter Sunday.
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