Miriam was alone on the last bit of the path to the tomb where the body of her Beloved lay. She moved quickly, eager in her anticipation of being able to do one this last service for him, to touch the flesh she had loved so well. But she was bent over like an old woman, her grief enfolding her, because she knew that she would only be touching the earthly vessel. The burning spirit that animated the vessel had fled. The kindness in the eyes was gone; the breath that was behind his gentle yet authoritative voice was no more.
The sun was beginning to rise, and the birds were joyously welcoming what was for them another glorious morning. Miriam could hear the voices of the other woman behind her on the path, their chatter subdued in counterpoint to the singing of the birds. She clutched her bag of spices and precious ointments closer to her chest. The odors arising from the bag were a reminder that for her, there would never be a glorious morning again.
As she neared the place, she saw that the stone that covered the tomb was gone. She ran to look inside, dread gripping her bowels, and saw what she most feared: the body of her Beloved was gone. She emerged from the tomb, and realized that the soldiers who had been guarding the tomb were also gone. Frantically, she ran through the Garden, looking for anyone who could tell her where the body had been taken. It was all too much, this final blow to her heart was more than she could handle, and she fell to the ground awash in an ocean of tears, oblivious to the world around her.
A voice penetrated the bleakness. “Woman, why are you weeping?” The voice said.
Miriam stood and turned in the direction of the voice, thinking that it might be the keeper of the garden. Eyes downcast, she said “if you have taken him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will go and get him.”
The man reached out toward her, and gently said “Miriam.”
Miriam looked up to his face, a joyous smile blossoming amid the tears that streaked her face. There was only one person who called her name in that way. “Rabboni” she cried, and threw herself into his arms.
Yeshua drew her into an embrace, wrapping his arms around her and enfolding her in his warmth. But when she turned her face toward his for the welcome and familiar kiss, he gently, reluctantly pushed her away, saying “Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet gone back up to the Father. But go to my brothers and sisters and tell them that I am going to him who is my Father and their Father, my God and their God.”
Miriam watched as figure grew brighter. She had to avert her eyes when the light became too much, and when she opened them, he was gone. But she knew that he was with her, and still wrapped in the Presence of his Love. She stood there until the other women found her. The clustered about her, asking what had happened, and if she knew where Yeshua was. She smiled at all of them, and said. “We are not abandoned. He has returned to me, and to all of us. Come now, we must go tell the others”.
Miriam turned on the path, and walked eagerly, with her head held high, back to the city.
