If Only I Could Paint

If only I could paint. There is a moment in scripture of profound emotional intensity and depth that fills my soul perhaps more than any other. It is that instant when hope banishes despair.

Imagine you are Mary Magdalene. Just two days ago your teacher, your mentor, your friend, your God was executed. All of your hopes, earthly and eternal, were wrapped up in him. And now he is gone. Dead.

Early Sunday morning, still dark and the air chilled, you walk to his tomb. There had been no time to properly prepare his body before the Sabbath and so now you are bringing spices and herbs to do it right. But upon arriving you find the stone rolled away and as you peer in with your lamp you see the tomb is empty. His death was not enough—now his enemies have stolen his body and most likely desecrated it.

You run to find Simon Peter and John to tell them the crushing news. The two immediately leave to see if it is true. You follow, and after the apostles return to the city you remain, standing and crying, your emotions completely overwhelming you. Out of the corner of your eye you see someone walking toward you in the shadowy light of dawn.

He asks, “Woman, why weepest thou? Whom seekest thou?”

You reply meekly, “Sir, if thou have borne him hence, tell me where thou hast laid him, and I will take him away.”

There is a pause and then the man speaks again, calling you by name. “Mary.”

You recognize the voice, impossible as it seems. You turn hesitantly, not daring to believe, and see that it is indeed Jesus.

That is the moment, when hopelessness gives way to joy, when defeat yields to triumph, when despair is banished by promise. I can picture Mary’s face, her eyes wet with tears and wide with surprise, her mouth open, her lips trembling, forming an involuntary smile.

That is the moment that sums up the Gospel, the Good News of Jesus Christ, who gives us “beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.” (Isaiah 61:3)

There are many works of art showing Mary at the tomb, but this exact view I have never seen depicted, at least the way I envision it. If only I could paint. . . .