The “There” of Easter

On this day, two thousand years earlier, men and women ran to a tomb and found it empty.

Was this any wonder from he who was there from the beginning, from he who was there when dust was made flesh and when manna fell from desert sky and when brothers’ rage became a nation’s salvation and when breath entered all those dry, dry bones and when women (prostitutes, queens, widows, those reaching for cloak’s edge, each so alone) wept and found mercy?

Is it any wonder that, being there for all of those times, he would not be there, locked behind stone and bound in burial cloth and absent of any breath or hope, but instead be there, moving and breathing and calling out “Mary” in the garden’s first light?

Rejoice in the resurrection of the Christ.

Happy Easter!

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