Do you see Mary and the other Mary, a few friends too, trodding the dry, dusty trail?
The downturned corners of their lips devour any hint of glee. One of them – maybe a few – are hauling the spices to place on Jesus’ body. After all, he’s dead. Can’t you smell the hint of death in the air?
“How are we going to move that heavy stone?” one of them asks.
Silence fills the air. No one knows that answer. They’ve all pondered it silently, but none have been brave enough to eek out the question – not until now.
Tears wet the dusty earth below as they pace with one foot in front of the other. They continue their early-morning amble toward the tomb with the weight of hurting hearts. Their hope and savior is dead, so it seems.
But is all really as it seems?
As they approach the grave, a gasp cuts through the air. Spices fall to the ground. Mary’s eyes widen.
“But how?” she whispers. Her hand moves upward, covering her lips, cupping her mouth.
The stone has been rolled away.
“Do not be afraid,” a voice offers. “you’re looking for a crucified and dead Jesus.”
A brilliant glow surrounds the voice. Somehow the woman sees a head amid the glow. It’s gently shaking from side to side.
“He’s not here.”
No, Jesus is not dead. All isn’t as it seems.
“Just as he said, he is alive,” the voice booms.
Her mouth gapes wide. A power beyond her own has rolled away the stone, and beyond that stone – somewhere – breaths a living Jesus.
She’s beginning to sense a difference. She must go beyond the routine, press past the stone.
The angel pulls her in with a conversation. She and the group listen intently. Their hearts ignite, then they venture off to be about their Father’s business.
But there’s something this woman and others in the spice posse do when, shortly after the angel interaction, they have a face-to-face encounter with Jesus. And it makes a difference.
They cast fear to the wind and bow low. Pride nor fear hold them upright. (Oh, but please…don’t those spirits try?!)
The women see fit to bending a knee – only to Jesus.
Could you imagine passing by Jesus simply because of an all-consuming, attention-gathering to-do list?
Sadly, I’ve been there. Maybe you too.
Tradition of spices isn’t the answer, either. Many of us have held hands with tradition as well.
This is the way we’ve always done it.
But I’m comfortable in my routine of familiarity.
What if Jesus wants to scatter our routine of tradition?
Tradition, apart from Jesus, is ritual – for the dead. It’s like laying spices on a dead Savior. It’ll never resurrect him.
These women need worship – for the living. They need and long for a breathing, living, powerful Savior.
So do we.
Go ahead, grasp his feet. Reach for Jesus. Don’t be afraid to bow low.
Go ahead. Grasp his feet as best you can. Reach for Jesus. Don't be afraid to bow low. Click To Tweet
Then, like the women hurrying from the tomb, simply worship Jesus.
Do you desire more than spices for the dead? I do.
Before writing, I desire to ingest worship. Maybe you too?
Before speaking with Jesus-seeking folks, I hope to open wide and devour a main course with my Savior.
Before living day-to-day, checking off that ever-present to-do list, I long to be intentional – reach low, touch his feet, and wait until his voice broadcasts clearly.
I desire to simply worship Jesus – before all else.
Then…go tell the world.
I desire to simply worship Jesus - before all else. Click To Tweet
If so, then we can learn from Mary. We can…
Look for Jesus’ feet.
Then, watch a world be changed as an empty-grave, stone-rolled-away Savior touches lives, one at a time.
If this is your hope…
…will you comment below, “I am reaching for Jesus’ feet”?
I’ll pray for you, and please feel free to pray for others in the comments below as well. Let’s “walk deeper” with Jesus in this new year. Let’s worship.