Hear About the Mugging?

Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni!” (which means Teacher) [John 20:15-16].

I wonder what went through the mind of Death as it shook away the cobwebs on that first Easter morning. It likely had a strange, uneasy feeling that now somehow, something was different. Death had, after all, held sway for such a long time—a time so long that humanity’s memory ran not to the contrary. Indeed, Death’s rule reached back to that fateful moment in which the first Adam—and his wife—had taken their haughty bites from the only fruit that had been forbidden them.

To be sure, Death had felt a foreboding twinge when the One born in Bethlehem gathered with his followers on Thursday, and, after washing their feet—including those of His betrayer—said to them, “Mandatum novum” (a new commandment) I give to you: That you love one another as I have loved you.”

Death had certainly been less than comfortable later that evening when, as the folks were eating, Mary’s son took bread, and after blessing it, broke it, and gave it to the disciples, saying, “Take, eat; this is my body.” And didn’t Death taste bile when, after the supper, the One whom the Jerusalem crowds had cried out for, took a cup, and after giving thanks, he gave it to them, saying, “Drink of it, all of you, for this is my blood of the new covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.”

I suppose that Death’s spirit began to soar as he saw the Son of Man’s anguish in the Garden. At that moment, Death most assuredly thought, “Does He have doubts about His identity, about His strength and mission, about His future? Is He afraid?”

I’m sure that Death nodded approvingly when the “apostle and high priest” [Hebrews 3:1] was betrayed by one of His own—particularly when He was identified by His betrayer’s kiss, and then arrested. Early the next morning, just as the cock was ready to crow, Death likely heaved a sigh of deep satisfaction as one of the Nazarene’s followers—the one they sometimes called “the Rock”—pretended not to know the One whom he earlier had called Lord.

Did Death not smile with glee when the Sanhedrin assembled the sham of a trial? Did Death not laugh when the crowd outside Pilate’s work quarters—given the choice of the two condemned men—screamed, “Crucify Him, Crucify Him.” Ah, was not that Friday one of the best and highest days in all the reign of Death, as the new Adam’s enemies spit upon the so-called “King of the Jews,” as they beat Him, and mocked Him, and then, only after they had sated their desire to visit shame upon Him, nailed Him to a tree [Deuteronomy 21:22]?

Had not Death felt its enormous power when the young man from Nazareth, now affixed with metal spikes to the cross, had cried out in pain and anguish, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” When Death heard the Condemned One cry out, “It is finished,” did it not say to itself, “Indeed. It is finished. My work is almost complete!” Did Death not lean forward to capture the sight of the spear being shoved into the Crucified One’s side, when both blood and water issued forth?

I suspect that Death smirked with excitement when the sky drew dark, when later they rolled a large rock in front of the tomb where they had laid His dead body, and when those that had followed Him scattered about like leaves whipped up by an Autumn wind. Death must have thought it had completed its most powerful act.

Ah, but did Death see the coming punch? Did the breeze caused by Yahweh’s mighty fist touch Death’s cheek just before the full power of the Almighty’s righteous blow was delivered? As Death lay near the opening of the tomb—yes, the opening, since Yahweh had rolled the rock away—did it not reach up to touch a painful eye? Did it not rub a broken rib? As Death lay there in its confused and stingless state, did It not wince aloud as It heard the voice of Mary, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away."

Did Death not swoon when It heard the reply from the Gardener, “Mary!”

Was Death not sick at its stomach when It heard her Hebrew exclamation, “Rabbouni!”

Did Death not then deeply and utterly lament the knowledge that this Jesus thing wasn’t over. In fact, it was only beginning. Death had been mugged with Hope!