“The cloth that’d covered Jesus' head was folded neatly and lying to the side." ~ John 20:7
If Hollywood had scripted Jesus’ resurrection on Easter
Sunday, it might have played out something like this:
Jesus died on Friday, the victim of barbaric torture for
His “criminal” acts. His very-public death was gruesome, inhumane, even humiliating.
Invented by the Persians between 300-400 B.C., it’s the most painful death ever
devised. Hollywood would’ve downplayed its brutality in order to avoid an ‘R’
movie rating.
Just after sunrise, picture Mary hurrying to the tomb to
finish anointing Jesus’ corpse. Hopeless, despondent, her faith dying with
Jesus, we sense the scene’s emptiness. Her tears surrendering to grief’s crushing
weight when she discovers the massive stone rolled away.
Mary frantically runs back and sobs out her testimony to
Peter and John, fearing grave robbers have stolen the body. They frantically return
with her to see for themselves, the younger disciple outrunning the older one only
to find the tomb empty. Cue hysterical panic, primal fear, and shattered
hearts.
As showbiz often does, flashback hours before Mary first
arrived. Jolts of electricity race through Jesus’ body as He awakens just
seconds before the Angel of Death comes to claim Him. Strength returns as His blood
starts moving again. He eventually staggers upright.
Several attempts to move the stone prove futile, but Jesus
having Herculean strength, finally forces the stone aside and stumbles out of
the tomb, bleary-eyed and plotting His escape. He doesn’t bother tidying things
up before a bright light secretly whisks him skyward.
First, John noticed Jesus' linen wrappings lying there, but the cloth that had covered Jesus' head was intentionally folded and set aside.
Had thieves stolen the body, they would likely have taken Him, cloths and all, or
simply have stripped the linens off and left them in a messy heap.
Second, in Jewish tradition, when the master of the house got
up after dinner, he might wad up his napkin showing he'd finished eating. Only
then could the servants clear the table. A neatly folded napkin meant he was
not done and would come back.
Before leaving, Jesus took on the dignity befitting Him. He
rose in a humble, nonchalant manner. He took a few moments to tidy things up,
even going so far as completing a task akin to folding a guest towel - a sign
that He would return.
He strode out of the tomb like He owned the place and announced
to a broken world that He was setting everything back the way it was always
supposed to be. From death into life. Out of disorder into order. Goodbye
brokenness, hello wholeness.
Then on the third day He ascended a conquering hero.
“Lord Jesus, we rejoice continually in Your
glorious and triumphant victory over death. For Your victory is my victory.
Help me to live by it, in it, and for it. Amen (Selwyn Hughes)
