‘to my beloved…’

Easter Morning

April 9, 2023

Story based on Matthew 28:1-10

Each year at Easter, I try to find a new way into these old and beloved stories of our faith. I try to find a character whom we know was there, who experienced all that went on, but for whom there is little in the biblical record to tell us just how they felt, or how they managed to move from the joy and celebration of Palm Sunday through to the trial and crucifixion, and all the way to the bright sunshine of Easter morning.

Along the way I have tried to draw on legend and other sources to at least stay somewhat close to believability…as well as put in a full dose of my own baptized imagination, in order to try and bring the stories of these less-celebrated individuals out into the light…

…with that as introduction, I would like to share this year’s Easter story titled simply…‘to my beloved’.

*****

My dearest friend and lifelong companion,

It seems that ever since you went on to be with our Lord, I have missed you every moment of every day. I reflect often on the wondrous times we had together, and all the things we were so privileged to see and to hear. From the very beginning, when we stood outside the inn that was full to overflowing on the night our son was born, to the way you were able to make that little corner of the stable warm and cozy anyway, I shall always marvel at how you were able to bring such joy and peace to our home.

I know I have written to you before, and that you don’t actually receive these thoughts of mine, but somehow I think it’s possible that you have a sense of how much my heart pines for you, wishing you were still beside me.

I know that ours was not an easy life, but it surely was remarkable in so many ways.  I am also sure that it was only by grace that we found a place of peace together for most of the time. I smile when I say that, as I look back on the time we lost Jesus in Jerusalem, and didn’t find him until hours later in the Temple, sharing so deeply with the priests and scholars. How grateful to have found him and so relieved, but so anxious and frightened for the better part of the day…oh the things that son of ours put us through!

I never really said it, for you seemed unworried and so supportive of our children, even though your sons did not follow you into the family business of working the wood. I know it was your passion, and your work was so beloved by all who looked upon it, but it always pained me that none of the boys chose to follow your passion as well, for at least Jesus certainly had the talent and the gift to do so.

I know we lost you soon after Jesus started his work as a traveling teacher, although I am not sure just where Jesus was at the time. Together we got a taste of just what a whirlwind our son Jesus was, and in fact the past couple of years since I lost you, have been so full as to seem like a lifetime in themselves. I remember laughing together in Cana when I asked Jesus to provide more wine for the guests at our dear friend’s daughter’s wedding. Everyone was so surprised and had no idea how that came about…but we knew didn’t we? And again when Jesus  fed that massive crowd with the young boy’s lunch of a few pieces of bread and fish…and then there was so much left over, the boy took home a full basket for his family! Oh, what a life it was, what an amazing life we lived together.

But it was over this past week that I needed you the most. Each night I cried myself to sleep just wishing you were still here to hold me and tell me it was all going to be okay. In fact, I don’t think I would have made it at all, save for the love of my friends Mary and Salome who never left me alone, making sure I had anything I might have needed.

I know you fretted inwardly ever since Jesus started speaking out publicly what had always been deep in his heart. The worry and fear you kept close within your heart so you son would not see it was visible to me. I know you often feared for him and wished he could find a way to fit in with a little less commotion, but I also knew that you believed in all that he said, and often told me that you never knew anyone more destined to speak his own heart and mind than our eldest son. From the very beginning we both knew he was specially blessed by God…but the way he chose to share his understanding of the faith so often caught the attention of the wrong people…people who for some time now have been seeking for a way to stop him and to still his voice.

And it all came to a head this week. I tried to persuade him not to, but he insisted on coming into Jerusalem and right into the arms of those who have been trying to find a way to catch him and persecute him. But oh what an entrance he made! He came into the city riding on a donkey, and there was such a huge procession of people waving branches and praising God that I thought for a minute that our worries may have been misplaced. But within days of his arrival he was betrayed by one of his closest followers and was arrested and put on trial in the High Priest’s house. I was hoping they would just tell him he had to stop doing what he was doing, and refrain from saying all that the priests had found so unsettling, but early the next morning they paraded him off to the court of the Prelate Pontius Pilate where a loud and angry crowd convinced Pilate that they could have their wish and have our son crucified!

I could not believe it…how is a mother ever supposed to watch one of their own be sentenced and condemned to death, and in such a painful and grotesque way? I was overcome with sadness and grief as I watched the Roman Soldiers nail him fast to that heavy wooden cross and then stand it up and rudely let it fall into the deep hole they had prepared to hold it upright. My heart was broken and I could not even stand up but for the love of my dear friends who stood watch with me. For hours we watched as Jesus hung there in pain, hardly saying a word as he grew ever weaker and the life within him seemed to lessen more and more with each passing hour. Towards the end, he once more demonstrated his deep love for me, knowing that I was so alone, as he told young John to take care of me as if he was my own son. It was all so unreal…as though somewhere I knew this day might come someday, but I just could not fathom that it actually had.

I missed you so much Joseph, I could not stop crying as I made my way back home. The other women offered to stay the night with me but I preferred to be alone…perhaps so I could remember…both our life together…and our beloved son Jesus.

But my heart was so broken and the tears just would not cease…I don’t think I slept for even a minute last night, replaying the scene over and over again in my mind. I was so distressed because I truly believed that had he wished to save himself he would have been able to. Even one of the soldiers standing guard recognized Jesus for who he truly was at the moment he breathed his last.

        And so it was with tear-soaked hair, and eyes red and swollen that I answered the knock at the door early this morning. My dear friend Mary Magdalene came to see me and begged me to join her in properly anointing our son’s body for burial as we didn’t have time to do so on Friday evening before the start of Passover.

        She had brought all the spices and other necessary items along with her and together we set out in the dusk of early dawn, over and up the hill towards the tomb. Just before we arrived we remembered the heavy stone that had been rolled across the tomb entrance and wondered how we might move it out of the way. That didn’t deter us however as we continued to trudge sadly up the hill.

        And then, just as we arrived the ground beneath our feet began to shake violently, and in awe we watched as an angel descended from above and rolled the stone away from the entrance, after which he sat down upon it. He shone like lightning and his robe was a white as snow. The guards who were there keeping watch were so frightened they shook terribly, and then stood stock still as if unable to move.

        Mary and I did not know what to make of it all and looked on in awe and wonder. We both had seen so much over the last couple of years and knew this had to be a moment of deepest grace. We did not know what to make of it all when the angel suddenly addressed us saying, ‘Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has been raised just as he had said he would be. Come close, see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples, ‘He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.’’

        I can’t tell you Joseph, how overflowing was the joy filling both of our hearts as we looked at each other in stunned silence before dashing off back down the hill towards the house where Peter and the others were staying. And as I ran, I couldn’t help but wish you were here to share the moment.

So much of our life together instantly came into sharp focus as I thought back over the incredible things we had heard and seen. From our own strange and unbelievable angelic visions, to the reaction of Elizabeth’s baby within her own womb upon my greeting to her. I began to understand all of the wondrous miracles we saw ourselves and so, so many more that others recounted to us, all at the hand of our son.

And, as I am sure you would understand, this was absolutely the greatest gift a mother could ever receive…to have watched her beloved son die on a cruel cross, and then just three days later be told that indeed he was alive again. I just could not believe it. And so on and on we ran, as though we had angel’s wings of our own.

But dear Joseph, our gracious and loving Lord was not finished with us, as suddenly just ahead we saw Jesus standing there on the path. As we drew nearer we didn’t know what to say, but he spoke first saying, ‘Greetings’. At the sound of his voice we recognized that it truly was him…Joseph I tell you I was standing before our firstborn son, alive and indeed risen from death!

Both Mary and I fell down at his feet, totally overcome with joy, and held on to him. Tears of joy mingled with prayers of deepest gratitude flowed freely. After a moment, we looked up into his gentle, smiling face and listened closely as he spoke again saying, ‘Do not be afraid my beloved; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; for there they will see me.’

And then, just as suddenly as he appeared, he vanished from our sight, leaving us speechless and overcome with the deepest joy I could ever have imagined. After a moment, we both looked at each other and began to laugh at the sheer joy and wonder of what we both had just witnessed. And then, remembering the instructions we had been given now twice, we linked arm in arm and hurried on down to tell the others the most amazing story we had been so blessed to be a part of.

And so my beloved Joseph, a week that started out as the beginning of the end of all I held dear and believed in, in fact became the very beginning of a whole new chapter of hope and promise. Our son, our beloved Jesus, the one who was the light and love of our life was alive again…he had been raised from death and we saw him and spoke with him. I just can’t express how much I wish you were here to share this joy with me. At least and at last I have hope…and a joy I can’t quite explain.

But as I reflected this evening on all that went on, and all that Jesus had shared with us starting from a young age, I remembered his deep conviction that life does indeed go on somehow after we finish our time here on earth…that somehow there will be a time when we are together again by the grace and in the love of God…

And so, as I now close the chapter on this day, and this very long letter to you my dear…I say goodbye…but only for now…

…all my love, your devoted wife, Mary

…amen