Skip to main content

Conversations on the way to the Cross 8: The Resurrection




The guards recover


"What was that??"

"Owwww... my head hurts."

"I'm not surprised, Dan!  You went down like a felled tree - I saw you!"

"You weren't much better, Matt.  You were shaking like a whole bush full of leaves."

"Well at least I didn't faint, did I?  I could have sworn we'd been struck by lightning - but it was a man..."

"Yes, just as we were about to tell those women to get out of here - and where did they go, anyway?"

"That way, I think, in a hurry.  They must have been as scared as we were."

"No, that's not right, that shining guy talked to them!"

"Oh come on, Saul, you must have imagined that."

"No, he did!  He said something like, you're looking for Jesus, but he's risen from the dead."

"Risen?  You mean..."

"Uh-oh..."

"Oh, we are in for it now."

"We are dead.  We are so dead."

"But where did it go?  Where did the body go?"

"The shining man must have taken it!  It's the only explanation."

"But we saw him!  OK, you didn't, Dan, you were out cold, but me and Matt here did... he didn't have a body, did he Matt?"

"No, and look, it's not like someone just grabbed it and ran.  All the wrappings are still there, just as if..."

"... the body went right through them.  Oh, I don't like this, I don't like this at all..."

"Look!  There's more people coming.  We've got to get out of here, guys."

"We'll have to tell the boss."

"Tell him what?  We were on duty the whole time, but now the tomb's open and the body's gone?"

"We'll have to say about the shining man.  And what he said."

"What, Jesus is risen?"

"That's right, we'll say, Sir, an angel came and now Jesus has risen from the dead!"

"Sir, the dead body you sent us to guard has come to life again!"

"Sir, the power of the Almighty removed him from the tomb!"


"...no, but seriously.  What are we going to say?"

Matthew 28:1-10

Other Conversations from the Cross
1: The Donkey
2: The Commotion
3: The Authority
4: The Anointing
5: The Betrayal
6: The Burial
7: The Precaution

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Very Persistent Widow, or, We're Going on a Judge Hunt

Image by Pexels from Pixabay   At church this morning I was leading the kids group for the five- to seven-year olds. We are studying parables at the moment - the short and punchy stories that Jesus told. Today's was about the persistent widow, who kept on going to the judge's house to demand justice. As I read it, echoes of The Very Hungry Caterpillar came into my head: "...and he was STILL hungry!" as well as images from We're Going on a Bear Hunt: "Mud! Thick, oozy mud!" So here is the version of The Persistent Widow that Jesus would, I am sure, have told, if his audience had been a group of infant school kids. They seemed to enjoy it. I hope you do too.  If you have a small child to help with the knocks and the "No!"s, so much the better. The Very Persistent Widow Lydia was a widow. That means her husband had died. She didn’t have any children, so she lived all by herself. Now someone had done something wrong to Lydia. Maybe someone had

I have a piano!!!

OK, maybe we should have bought a stand! But who cares if it doesn't have the most aesthetically pleasing setting - it's great to have something to play on again. My most loving and wonderful husband had obviously picked up a few signs that I was missing my piano (no, I wasn't hinting that badly!) and a few days ago said, "I was just in the guitar shop and they had a big sale on keyboards - do you want to take a look?" So we went and browsed around a bit, and he firmly dragged me away from the $1000+ models and made me look at some more reasonable ones, and after some discussion we went for this little Casio. It's more portable than the type with a built-in stand, which was a big consideration when we know we're moving in less than 2 years and I had to leave my old one behind for precisely that reason. It's got weighted keys so the touch is good; the sound could be better but it renders Bach quite prettily even if not really coping with Rachm

The Churnet Way: a ribbon of water

I drove across the Staffordshire Moorlands on the A52, the morning open around me. The Sunday Service was on the radio, and my heart sang along with the BBC Singers, who were celebrating their 100th anniversary. The road plunged downhill to Froghall and I cut off the service in the middle of the Lord's Prayer (oops. sorry, Lord) as I arrived at Froghall Wharf car park. old lime kilns at Froghall Wharf It was a cold and breezeless morning. I set off along the Caldon Canal towpath, crossing a lock and passing a tunnel which looked like an awfully tight squeeze for any boat. A metal fence, expanses of cracked concrete, and some crumbling brick buildings were all that remained of what must have been a large factory alongside the canal. A metal pipe drooped forlornly, its broken end gaping. A cheery mouse brightened up one old building. I reached the final corner of the fence, and the industrial landscape dropped away behind me. The canal narrowed to a thin ribbon of water. It seemed ha