“The Cries of a Worshiper”
Mary sat by the tomb of Jesus, silently weeping. There was none to keep her company, save her thoughts. Why, God? She asked. Why did He have to die? I would’ve given my life for Him.
The silence around her was intense, accentuating her aloneness. Mary was oblivious to it all, continuing her conversation in her heart. She was only aware of her sorrow. Jesus, where are You? I need You so desperately! Don’t leave me in my despair. You alone, Lord, made me feel good about myself. I felt complete in Your Presence. The world saw me as a fragmented person, but You, Jesus…You alone saw my nakedness. You saw me as a whole, healed person. I can’t make it without You, Lord! You are my Heart’s delight! When will You come back to me?
As Mary poured out of herself –her hearts’ anguish-far away, in another dimension, a lone figure was listening intently, His heart touched by her cries. In His Hand, the Precious Blood, still warm from Cavalry’s sacrifice, just shed for the sins of all mankind. He was on His way to the Father to present the Blood on the Mercy Seat.
Yet, for a moment, He could not go any farther. His one weakness: the cries of a worshiper. Jesus, tilted His Face to the Father, still One with Him, as at the foundation of the world (though death had tried, even death could not, and would not sever that tie.) He was still submitted to the will of the Father. He spoke one word: “Father.” The Father, already anticipating the request of the Son, understood. He responded with one word, “Go.”
Mary, unaware of the conversation that had just transpired, was still sobbing. She did not realize that her cry, from the recesses of her heart, had momentarily halted The Most Important Assignment from the beginning of time. She suddenly realized she was no longer alone. A man stood in front of her, his face partially concealed. Was he the gardener? She supposed.
He spoke, his voice questioning. “Woman, why weepest thou?”
Mary looked at him, not focusing, the sorrow obvious on her face. “Sir, they have taken away my Lord and I don’t know where they have put Him.”
He ignored her response and asked again, his voice, this time, more insistent. “Woman, why weepest thou?”
Mary became agitated, wanting only Jesus. “Sir, if you know where He is, tell me and I’ll go and get Him.” She didn’t know how she would carry a dead body but she would if she had to. She just wanted him to tell her where Jesus was laid.
Just then, her thoughts were interrupted by a Voice she never thought to hear again. It jolted her very being, and her heart, at the same time, leapt for joy.
“Mary.”
Her eyes were opened as she saw Jesus. Rushing to Him, she fell at His feet in adoration of the God-Man, a true worshiper. Reaching out to touch Him, she cried, “Rabboni!”
Jesus stepped back. “Touch Me not, for I have not ascended to My Father. But go-Go tell My disciples, I AM ALIVE!” Then, He was gone. Mary laughed. He’s Alive!! Jesus is Alive! She couldn’t wait to tell the disciples the Good News.
Rejoice, O Zion! Your King is Alive!
“They that worship (Him) must worship in spirit and in truth.” By S.J.Mackey
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