© 2023 Sophie Malicot
© 2023 French-speaking Association of Readers of the Urantia Book
| Relationships between material, mental and spirit | Le Lien Urantien — Issue 101 — March 2023 | Revelation of the Middle Ages |
Sophie Malicot
Looking through the texts of the death of Jesus, one can wonder why it was necessary to roll away the stone and open the tomb to dematerialize the body of the Master. Certainly the angels of the resurrection can pass through walls and do not need to push a door to enter, even if it is made of stone.
If the Jews and the Roman guards stationed there had not fled, what would they have seen?
Let’s get back to the story.
In a strong sandstorm, on April 7, 30, after about 5:30 a.m. of agony, “it was just before three o’clock that Jesus, with a loud voice, cried out: ”It is finished! Father, into your hands I commend my spirit." After having spoken thus, he bowed his head and gave up the struggle for life.
About an hour later, his body was taken down from the cross by the soldiers. A scuffle broke out between Jews and Romans, shooting at the corpse lying on the ground, each wanting to appropriate it. The stakes were high; the common grave assigned to slaves or a tomb worthy of any respected man? Joseph won his case thanks to an authorization signed by Pilate. Around 4:30 p.m. the body was transported to the new tomb of Joseph of Arimathea, by the latter, helped by Nicodemus, John and a Roman centurion, probably guarantor of the aforementioned authority. The body of Jesus was embalmed in a hurry, because of the preparations for the Sabbath, with strong myrrh and aloe, then wrapped in bandages. He was placed in a 3 square meter mortuary chamber, where he would rest for a day and a half.
Do men know? Perhaps… Because custom does not allow mixing in such situations. So not far from there, four women hide - Mary Magdalene, Mary of Clopas, Martha and Rebecca - take note of the place, observe and linger until nightfall. They judge the embalming work to be poorly done for the mortuary rest. It is decided: they will do it again the day after the Sabbath.
From Saturday morning, a Roman guard of about twenty men is requisitioned to ensure that Jesus’ friends do not come themselves to take the body, remove it and thus be able to proclaim to the people that the Master is indeed resurrected as he had promised. Also their first job is to add a second stone in front of the tomb and affix Pilate’s seal. No doubt the day is long and the night cold, despite the visit of the Jews who come to bring them food and drink. At midnight, the changeover takes place.
It is about 2:50 in the morning on Sunday, April 9, 30 when the tomb stone begins to roll by itself: an enormous stone like a millstone, moving along a groove in the ground chiseled into the rock. Dawn is breaking, the soldiers are watching for daylight and suddenly see in this faint light the movement of the stone. No one is operating it. Stunned, seized by a mad panic, the Romans flee towards the fortress of Antonia, reporting the facts as quickly as possible to the centurion; the Jews run home and then go to tell the captain present at the temple what they have seen. Dawn is also breaking in Jerusalem and at that same time five women leave the city, heading towards the tomb with the ointments and the linen tablets for embalming. They put into practice their decision to carefully improve the body. One question is nagging them: the rolling stone. What would they have thought if they had known that there were not one, but two stones, an official seal and a military guard? Worried and distressed to the depths of their souls, they do not know what awaits them. Only their deep love for the Master pushes their steps forward.
They plan to walk for 30 minutes. On the way, at the Damascus Gate, around 3 a.m., they come across soldiers in a panic fleeing in the opposite direction. What is happening? They stop and wonder, but it is out of the question for Jewish women to question Roman soldiers. So they continue their walk, still guided by faith.
Let us leave the path of the story here.
Let’s imagine someone who remained present at the
tomb, by cold blood or paralyzing panic. The big stone moves slowly, laterally, heavily and yet without a hand to push it. The second stone also rolls, to the side, lighter. The seal is broken and with it all political authority over the death of Jesus.
The opening is gaping, it is dark inside. The eyes cannot see. And yet a shape stands out from the background, advances towards the entrance, from the inside, gradually becomes distinct. The feet first, then the legs, the bust and the head. Yes, without a doubt, it is the body of the Master. Body of flesh, dead body, naked, without bandage; it moves in levitation, alone, without handling like the two stones were. His hair hangs down to the ground; his arms folded. The body comes out of the tomb, the morning light draws its contours, then stops a few meters outside. He is there, in front of the gaping opening crossed in the opposite direction a few hours before, in the same state except for the nudity.
And suddenly everything disappears. In a fraction of a second; nothing. The body is no more. Vanished. A magic trick? Divine grace? The gaze remains silent, stunned, searches from right to left, from top to bottom; nothing.
Paralyzed—who wouldn’t be in such circumstances?—the witness remains motionless, unable to move, understand or speak.
What to believe?
Who to believe?
In the silence beyond the noises, footsteps are heard; women’s voices: “Who will help us roll the stone aside?” They arrive, put down their burdens without looking at them, all their attention swallowed up in the opening of the tomb.
What to believe?
Mary Magdalene ventures around the smaller of the two stones and dares to enter the open sepulchre…
“My Lord and my Master!”
She kneels before Him.
What remains of the Beloved’s body? Nothing?
Not quite.
Jesus, in his second decision in the forty days of the desert, deliberately chooses to continue henceforth on the path of normal earthly existence. To the end. The laws of nature will be respected—in all circumstances.
Mary Magdalene has returned home. After so much emotion, turmoil, incomprehension and certainty, she needs to take some rest. How many days has it been since she slept? She no longer knows, no longer counts. It is broad daylight but she needs rest.
She takes off her linen dress, places it next to her and lies down on her straw mattress. A ray of light falls on the fabric, at knee height. Mary Magdalene sits up suddenly, takes the dress very delicately, places it against her cheek and cries.
Who to believe?
In infinite gratitude, her tears flooded with sunlight flow and mingle with the dust deposited on the canvas.
| Relationships between material, mental and spirit | Le Lien Urantien — Issue 101 — March 2023 | Revelation of the Middle Ages |