Mary's Diary by Rachel Boxer
Dear DiaryI鈥檓 not really sure how to write about what I鈥檝e just witnessed. The horror of it all is still too real. Yet somehow I don鈥檛 want to accept that it happened. But these details need to be remembered.
We鈥檇 been with him from the beginning, and now it looks as if it鈥檚 the end鈥f everything.
Last week, the streets of Jerusalem were ringing with shouts of praise to Jesus the King. But as we walked those same streets today, instead of praise people hurled abuse at him. Jesus was weak from being cruelly beaten and could hardly put one foot in front of another. We longed to run to his aid, to shout back at the crowd that they were wrong - that this man they were about to crucify WAS the special person they鈥檇 been watching and waiting for.
But it was impossible. It was as much as we could do to walk with the crowd, our cries of grief mingled in with their angry shouts.
And so they nailed him to a cross, between two criminals in the place of someone called Barrabas, whom the crowd had set free.
Even in those last long hours, as we watched and waited, Jesus still surprised us. 鈥楩orgive them, Father. They don鈥檛 know what they鈥檙e doing,鈥 he prayed as he watched the soldiers throwing dice to win his clothes. Jesus was as forgiving in his dying moments as he鈥檇 been all his life.
Then at midday, darkness fell. Three interminable hours of darkness, as if heaven itself was grieving. You could almost feel the weight of the silence.
At three o鈥檆lock the silence was broken by the sound of ripping material as the curtain of the temple tore in two, from top to bottom.
Then the earth shook and rocks split - and Jesus spoke for the last time, in a loud voice: 鈥楩ather, into your hands, I commit my spirit!鈥
And so he died, and with him any hope I鈥檇 had of seeing this new kingdom that he鈥檇 spoken about so often.
I waited with the others until evening fell, to see what they would do with his body. As evening approached, a stranger arrived. He must have been a follower of Jesus - and a brave one at that - because he鈥檇 obviously been to get permission to take Jesus鈥 body down from the cross.
Then he wrapped the body in linen strips, and took it to a new tomb - obviously the one he鈥檇 bought for his own burial.
Then the stranger rolled the heavy stone across the entrance and was gone.
Everything was done in a hurry as Shabbat approaches - a day of rest for us all. There was no anointing of Jesus鈥 body, no tender kisses on his face as he was wrapped.
So we鈥檒l wait until Shabbat is over to finish the job that the stranger started - to anoint the body of our Lord, serving him in his death as we鈥檇 served him in life.
Dear DiaryI can hardly write for the joy I feel! He鈥檚 ALIVE! We鈥檝e seen him with our own eyes! It鈥檚 hard to feel sadness now, but at the time, we went to his grave with heavy hearts, ready to be greeted once more with the harsh reality that Jesus now lay dead in a tomb.
We went out as soon as it was light, with spices to anoint Jesus鈥 body. On the way we realised that we hadn鈥檛 really thought things through - that heavy stone was going to present us with a bit of a problem鈥nd we were so busy discussing what to do, we barely noticed that things were not as we鈥檇 left them鈥
As we approached, we saw that the stone had been rolled back, and so we entered nervously, wondering what we might see.
Two men, dressed all in white, gleaming like lightning, were sitting where Jesus鈥 body should鈥檝e been - one at his head, the other at his feet. There was nothing left except the strips of cloth, folded neatly. We were terrified鈥nd fell to our knees on the floor. Then the men said 鈥榃hy are you looking for the living amongst the dead? He is not here - he has risen! Don鈥檛 you remember what he told you? That he would be crucified and on the third day, be raised again? Well, it鈥檚 the third day! Now go and tell the others!鈥
We hardly needed telling twice! And then it happened. Suddenly, Jesus was there with us on the road. We fell to his feet, hugging them, crying and laughing at the same time.
鈥楧on鈥檛 be afraid!鈥 he said. 鈥楪o and tell the others to go to Galilee and there they will see me.鈥
And so we鈥檙e off to Galilee. Seeing Jesus again is almost too good to be true! I might be tempted to think I鈥檇 imagined it all鈥ut I know for certain it鈥檚 true because I鈥檝e seen him with my own eyes and felt his feet with my own hands.
And we鈥檒l see him again in Galilee! Jesus is ALIVE!
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