Several years ago, we lost power during a thunderstorm. Our
children were toddlers at this time, and they awoke with a
cry when their sound machines stopped running and all
artificial light vanished from their rooms. The house was
plunged into darkness.
In the Gospel this morning, we encounter the familiar
story of the empty tomb. We are told that Mary Magdalene
visits the tomb while it is still dark and finds the stone had
been rolled away. It is through this early morning darkness
that she runs to tell the disciples what she has found.
We ran into our kids’ rooms and scooped them up to bring
them into the safety of our bed. We lit candles and watched
the storm together. Huddled under the blankets, we sang
songs and told stories.
In the darkness, Mary exhorts: “They have taken the Lord
from the tomb, and we don’t know where they put him.” At
this, the two disciples run to see for themselves. When the
first arrives, Scripture tells us, he is too afraid to go in. So,
Simon Peter enters first and finds the burial cloths strewn
about. And while they realize that Jesus is gone, they cannot
yet comprehend that he has risen.
How often we cry out in darkness and fear, how often we
feel alone and abandoned in the storm. But this morning,
this Easter morning, we are the lucky ones because we know
the end of the story. God has scooped us up out of the darkness
and wrapped us in the light of the Resurrection. Amen.
Alleluia!

Heidi Busse

Heidi Busse is the editor of Give Us This Day.