Of all the scenes in the Bible, there is one that cuts close to home for me: Mary at the tomb. Her world had fallen apart only a few days before. The source of her faith, hope, and love had been brutally killed before her eyes. Though he had been buried, the work of burial was not yet complete. The death wrapping was hastily done and she had waited through the longest Sabbath of her life to come and finish the process. Full of grief, she had come to say the final goodbye, but now she couldn’t even do that because the body was gone. There at the open and empty grave — stricken again with grief, deeper than she thought possible — the tears flow so fast that she can barely see. A man approaches. Blinded by her tears and thinking him a gardener, she begs him to tell her where they have taken the body. Then, with a word, her deepest grief turns to greatest joy — “Mary.” She knows that voice. She knows the one who knows her name.
I am no artist. My drawing skills calcified somewhere around 5th grade, but my imagination still gets energetic sometimes. One of my early “lockdown projects” was a stop-motion film inspired by Andrew Peterson’s song “Risen Indeed.” My hope is that you will see past the rudimentary representation, and see instead Mary at the tomb. May you feel with her the transformation of deep grief into great joy.