They ran together through the garden, so overwhelmed by the news that they scarcely noticed the fallen soldiers illuminated now only by the swollen yellow moon. For the tomb was no longer afire as if lit by the sun itself. They stood a moment, and the men saw that the huge stone had indeed been rolled aside, and the black mouth of the aperture gaped at them. John held his lantern aloft. He crept fearfully to the opening and looked within while Simon and Mary stood by, shaking like reeds in a wind. Stooping, thrusting forward the lantern the better to see, John stared at the empty stone shelf on which the Lord had been laid. He could not believe his eyes. Slowly he shifted the lantern about, searching, then returned its dim light to the shelf. No body lay there. What remained were only the acrid burial cloths and the white linen napkin which had covered his head. The warmth within flowed out to John, laden with the scent of burial oils, aromatics, and spices.
Simon came forward, pushed John aside roughly, and entered the sepulcher to see what John had seen at the doorway. “It is true,” he murmured in bewildered sorrow. “He is not here.”
The two men, stricken anew, stood and looked at each other, forgetful of Mary, unaware of her. Then Simon and John, blinded by fresh grief, left her and moved toward the encompassing trees, the lantern light following them like a ghost. Soon the sounds of their passing and the lantern light were lost and she was alone and filled with dread. A deeper hush surrounded her. Walking with trepidation, she approached the mouth of the tomb, then halted, overcome with a terror she had never known before. She forced herself to bend, and she looked within.
She saw what neither Simon nor John had seen. She saw the great white figures before her, one sitting at the head of the shelf, the other at the foot, the grave cloths between them. They were the figures of men, clothed in shimmering light, but they were larger than men and their faces were beautiful and lofty, far removed from mankind and as still as alabaster. They regarded her in a long silence, while she, paralyzed, could only stare whitely at them.
Then one spoke, and his voice was like distant thunder. “Woman, why do you weep?” His words were compassionate, but his was not a human voice and it evoked unfamiliar echoes.
She stammered, holding to the side of the aperture, “Because they have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid him.” Her terror increased, for she sensed that she was not dealing with anything human, and the remote faces affrighted her.
It was this fright which gave her strength, and she ran from the tomb and the clearing, stumbling over the bodies of the sleeping Roman soldiers, crying deep in her throat, sometimes falling, then rising to stagger on again in her frantic terror.
Finally she could not go on. She had fallen once more and could rise only to her knees, her throat burning, her hands torn by sharp pebbles. She covered her eyes briefly, to shut out the light of the terrible moon, and struggled to breathe. Then, cowering, she heard the rustle of a bush and the slightest sound of footsteps. She dropped the corner of her cloak from her eyes and looked with fresh fear over her shoulder. A tall dark shadow stood near her, and she shrank back, whimpering in her throat.
She heard the voice of a man speaking gently. “Woman, why do you weep? Whom do you seek?”
The voice was full of pity and kindness, but distant, and she thought that he must be one of the gardeners. She tried to control herself but could not speak for a moment or two. At last she could whisper: “Sir, if you have borne him hence, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.”
There was a little silence. Mary, without thinking, leaned imploringly toward the shadow, no longer so affrighted.
Then he said: “Mary!”
She could not believe what she had heard, she could not believe who had spoken. She tried to rise but fell back on her knees, her face alight with vivid rapture, her hands clasped, her head thrown back, her mouth shaking.
“Rabbi!” she cried. She stretched out her hands to him, to seize his robe. Now she saw his aspect, palpitating and trembling with light. But he retreated from her reaching hands, from her ecstatic face.
He said: “Touch me not, for I am not yet ascended to my Father. But go to my brethren and say to them that I ascend unto my Father, and to my God and your God.”
Then Mary came and told the disciples that she had seen the Lord, and that he had spoken these things to her. Then the same day, at evening, being the first day of the week, when the doors were shut where the disciples were assembled for fear of their enemies, came Jesus and stood in their midst. He showed them his hands and his side. Then were the disciples glad, when they saw the Lord, even though they could not touch him.
But not all were sure he was of the flesh. Thomas, who was not with the disciples at this time, later expressed his usual skepticism. “Except I shall see in his hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and thrust my hand into his side where he was pierced by the spear, I will not believe.”
Eight days later, he stood again in their midst, and as though he had heard Thomas, he said: “Reach your finger here, and touch my hands. Now thrust your hand into my side, and be not faithless, but believing.”
Thomas kneeled then, and said: “Forgive me, my Lord and my God, for ever doubting.”
Jesus’ face was like a wraith. “Thomas, because you have seen me, you now believe. But blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed.”
The others also fell to their knees, and he raised them with a smile. Yet, even seeing him, it was difficult for them to believe, for they were encumbered by the limitations of their minds. And so he spoke to them once more. “I have told you that all things must be fulfilled which were written in the law of Moses and in the Prophets and in the Psalms concerning me. So that men would understand the truth of the Scriptures and God’s word, it behooved Christ to suffer, and to rise from the dead the third day. And now repentance and remission of sins should be preached in his name among all nations, beginning at Jerusalem.”
And he led them then to Bethany, to the home of Martha and Lazarus, and of Mary as well, and then he lifted up his hands and blessed them. “I tarry not, but leave the work with you.”
“When shall we see you again?” Peter asked.
“When your hands shall be stretched out, and you shall be bound and carried where you would not go.”
And then they knew what he foresaw for Peter.
Peter cried: “I would gladly die to be with you.”
“By believing,” said Jesus, “you may have life forever through my name.”
And then she who loved him so well asked: “And how long will you abide with us, dear Lord?”
“I come now only so that they who believed not would go into the world and preach the gospel to every creature. But I shall again make myself known, when the hearts of men have hardened against God, and a tyranny of the mind again darkens the world. Then, amid the destruction and the chaos, you shall find me. But not till all shall submit to the Father, knowing that he sent the Promised One for a salvation not of their world but of his. And so when it grows darkest and most confused, when men’s arms are raised against one another, and the whole earth trembles, then will the world know that he is near.”
And so many wait, knowing that he will come, just as he came before, but this time to a world eager for his word. She who stood ready to anoint him on this earth looks forward to this day, however distant it may seem. She knows, too late, that she sorely misjudged the one who kissed him in the garden. For he had more faith than the rest, since he believed in him unto the death. Would that he had waited but a few more days.
About the Authors
Taylor Caldwell wrote her first novel at the age of nine, and in six decades of writing since then, has become one of America’s most popular novelists. Among her bestsellers are The Sound of Thunder, Dear and Glorious Physician, A Pillar of Iron, Great Lion of God, Captains and the Kings, Glory and the Lightning, and Ceremony of the Innocent.
Her
association and friendship with Jess Stern goes back almost twenty years, when they were brought together because of their mutual interest in the psychic world. Together, they have written Search for a Soul, The Psychic Lives of Taylor Caldwell; Romance of Atlantis; and now, I, Judas.
Jess Stearn has been something of a pioneer in the nonfiction field, treating with frankness the once-taboo subjects of homosexuality (The Sixth Man), and drugs (The Seekers). His book on yoga (Yoga, Youth and Reincarnation) helped to start a vogue in this country. And his Door to the Future opened the possibility of psychic phenomena to a previously unconvinced public.
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