Jesus entered into the garden, a dazzling being wrapped in luminosity. Rays of light shot from his personhood and energy emitted in waves in front and behind him as he approached the tomb. He was a living star touching the earth. If human eyes had looked upon him in that moment they would have been blinded by a single opalescent white light, golden at its center where he stood.
The moment had come. This was his desire, his choice. Long ago in eternity he had willed it together with the Father and the Holy Spirit. His terrible glory would be contained in a body, a body fashioned like the first man Adam. He would clothe himself in humanity. That humanity was brutally tortured, slain, bore wounds in hands, feet, side, and gashes on the back, chest, legs, arms and marks on the head. So badly swollen were the cheeks, lips and eyes that the features were unrecognizable.
Jesus standing in spiritual form gazed through the walls of the tomb and easily saw his human body lying in a shroud, the linen napkin tied around the sides of the head and under the chin to prevent the mouth from opening. How comfortless the body looked lying alone on the stone shelf. It mustn’t remain there unloved, forsaken, forgotten, a shadow of a memory of those who had followed him. His humanity was precious to him having been created by the Godhead. The Three had chosen the structure of his face, the color of his hair and eyes, how tall he would be - the sound of his voice…
How sad was death and leaving loved ones until this day. This day he had conquered! This day He had taken the keys of Hell and of death. He had taken the sting of death, received it all full measure into His humanity. This day the curse would be reversed!
Effortlessly Jesus passed through the huge stone blocking the entrance of the cave. At once the darkened tomb became full of his light, causing moisture clinging to the walls to glisten, his baroque fragrance overcoming the stench of death. He regarded his humanity draped in the shroud, sad to find blood had seeped through marking the beautiful white linen Joseph of Aramethea had purchased. He knew the shroud had been expensive. May he be rewarded for his gift, Jesus sighed inwardly. The cloth was especially stained around the heart area where the Roman spear had wounded his side. Quick tears came to Jesus’ eyes. He was glad that his side had been opened to bring forth his Bride. Today his humanity would embrace her. He would once again be given as a gift to Bride just as he had given himself for her on the cross.
Jesus stepped closer and the shrouded figure was bathed in a more intense light. The shroud could not hinder his gaze. Jesus saw beyond the wrappings and regarded his human face, eyes shut, head tilted upward as it rested on the stone pillow carved in the shelf that held the body. The profile seemed to be lifted in a prayer, longing for the light of day. When he looked at the beard, remembering how portions had been ripped out by ruthless men, he thought it nearly seemed impossible that the glory of his divinity would be contained in such frailty. Ah but with God nothing is impossible!
He saw yet more details beneath the shroud. There was one hundred pounds of spikenard packed tightly around the body. And wild flowers placed there by his friends. A tide of gratitude swept into Jesus’ heart.
He surveyed the body from head to toe, noted every wound, every disfigurement and he also looked around the tomb. There were no secret doorways, no other entrances except at the mouth of the cave and that still was covered by a huge round stone. All was ready.
The face of his divinity passed through the shroud beholding the face of his humanity. He breathed on the eyes, especially the left eye which was badly swollen. He passed his breath over the cheeks and brow and the wounds on the face. Lastly he kissed the battered mouth.
Live! He called the name of his humanity the same as he had called Lazurus from the tomb. Jesus! He felt the at-one-ment of the Godhead, the embrace of love and his glory passed into his humanity. His power rushed through the shell of human flesh, reaching all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes, animating muscle and tissue.
Jesus now had joined His divinity with his humanity. The very presence of the divine nature within human flesh caused the body to raise away from the part of the cloth that lie beneath and to hover suspended between the top of the shroud which had covered the skin from head to foot. One breath of divinity and a blaze of incandescent beams of light shot from every part of his wounded humanity, fingers, toes, eyelashes and each strand of hair became infused with this radiance imaged on the very shroud that possessed him. Then, ever so gently, the body again took a position of rest on the stone slab. Virtue flowed to the wounds on back, chest, legs and arms. He commanded restoration and the wounds faded into scars, but the wounds on His hands, feet and side he kept opened.
He felt clearly the rise and fall of his bosom. Jesus realized with complete joy he was once again united to his humanity! I am born all over again! He thought contentedly. Now he was a man and not the tiny baby born in Bethlehem but the same as an infant first discovering fingers and toes were Jesus’ first movements. Soon he lifted his hand, pressing it gently against the linen draped like a tent over him. He opened his human eyes, his divinity peering out of them. He saw the sepia covering and the red blood stains, his crucified body mirrored on the linen. The breath of his nostrils caused the cloth at once to cling to his face, then loosen and once again cling…
“Arise!” he commanded within himself.
Jesus sat up! He removed the shroud from his head, swung his legs over what had been his stony bed and let his feet dangle barely touching the floor of the cave. Giving a wide stretch of arms over his head he was about to speak but realized the chin band was still hindering any movement of his mouth. Hastily freeing the bandage he laid it aside, laughing at his predicament. At first he caught his breath when he realized the sound of his laughter filled the tomb. He laughed harder.
“Abba! My Abba!”
For the first time he spoke audibly. The same voice that had spoken to the multitudes, hushed the waves on the Sea of Galilee, comforted the widow of Naim, his voice fell like a soft caress on his ear. He loved the sound of his human voice, a marvel created by the Godhead.
“Good morning, my Beloved,” Jesus addressed the Father and the Holy Spirit. “I am here! We have done it!”
He listened for a moment. “Yes, I shall.” He agreed.
Laughing Jesus lay again on the shroud and pulled the cloth over him. Then he rose and passed right through the shroud! Standing he looked back and saw that the burial cloth lay like a cocoon undisturbed.
He was completely without the shroud and he began to examine himself. Jesus touched his forehead, his eyes, his nose, and cheek, the same Semitic features. He was delighted to find his beard fully restored. He had the same length of hair, the same broad shoulders and chest, the same sturdy legs that had traveled the rough Judean countryside and had walked the narrow streets of Jerusalem. His stature hadn’t diminished. In fact, he had to stoop a bit because his head touched the ceiling of the tomb when standing upright.
“Here I am inside my own tomb.” He laughed when he had to bend away from the ceiling.
Jesus found every part of himself new and restored. Yet there were glorious new additions to his body. That is what he treasured and loved the most. These were his wounds clearly marked on his hands, feet and side. He held up his right hand and saw the red wound and the purple bruising around the edge.. He could see the hole caused by the crucifixion nail and how it had passed through his hand. A white flame leaped from the center of his palm. The same colors and flame was repeated in the other wounds. When he examined his side wound he saw straight into himself. He was lit up inside by a heart full of glorious light.
Ah so beautiful a place! Most intimate of all chambers! The sight of his opened side spilling over with radiance increased his joy. He could not help but smile as he considered how perfect a dwelling for the ones he had died for. He had become cleft, his own body the secret place for nesting doves.
Indeed his humanity was identifiable as Jesus the Nazarene whose entire being was a garment of illumination. He extended his hands, showing the Father and Holy Spirit. “How well we have done, Our Temple!” He cried. He lifted one foot and wiggled his toes as he showed the wound. “Behold!” Jesus did the same with the other foot.
They had done it. The Three had accomplished love’s most magnificent act together, each Person of the Godhead wholly supportive of the other. Even in the most difficult moment, when Father could not look upon Son because the Son had become sin, their love had conquered.. Jesus was pleased. He was thankful he had said yes to everything, not only the Passion but to every detail of his life on earth.
The moment had come. This was his desire, his choice. Long ago in eternity he had willed it together with the Father and the Holy Spirit. His terrible glory would be contained in a body, a body fashioned like the first man Adam. He would clothe himself in humanity. That humanity was brutally tortured, slain, bore wounds in hands, feet, side, and gashes on the back, chest, legs, arms and marks on the head. So badly swollen were the cheeks, lips and eyes that the features were unrecognizable.
Jesus standing in spiritual form gazed through the walls of the tomb and easily saw his human body lying in a shroud, the linen napkin tied around the sides of the head and under the chin to prevent the mouth from opening. How comfortless the body looked lying alone on the stone shelf. It mustn’t remain there unloved, forsaken, forgotten, a shadow of a memory of those who had followed him. His humanity was precious to him having been created by the Godhead. The Three had chosen the structure of his face, the color of his hair and eyes, how tall he would be - the sound of his voice…
How sad was death and leaving loved ones until this day. This day he had conquered! This day He had taken the keys of Hell and of death. He had taken the sting of death, received it all full measure into His humanity. This day the curse would be reversed!
Effortlessly Jesus passed through the huge stone blocking the entrance of the cave. At once the darkened tomb became full of his light, causing moisture clinging to the walls to glisten, his baroque fragrance overcoming the stench of death. He regarded his humanity draped in the shroud, sad to find blood had seeped through marking the beautiful white linen Joseph of Aramethea had purchased. He knew the shroud had been expensive. May he be rewarded for his gift, Jesus sighed inwardly. The cloth was especially stained around the heart area where the Roman spear had wounded his side. Quick tears came to Jesus’ eyes. He was glad that his side had been opened to bring forth his Bride. Today his humanity would embrace her. He would once again be given as a gift to Bride just as he had given himself for her on the cross.
Jesus stepped closer and the shrouded figure was bathed in a more intense light. The shroud could not hinder his gaze. Jesus saw beyond the wrappings and regarded his human face, eyes shut, head tilted upward as it rested on the stone pillow carved in the shelf that held the body. The profile seemed to be lifted in a prayer, longing for the light of day. When he looked at the beard, remembering how portions had been ripped out by ruthless men, he thought it nearly seemed impossible that the glory of his divinity would be contained in such frailty. Ah but with God nothing is impossible!
He saw yet more details beneath the shroud. There was one hundred pounds of spikenard packed tightly around the body. And wild flowers placed there by his friends. A tide of gratitude swept into Jesus’ heart.
He surveyed the body from head to toe, noted every wound, every disfigurement and he also looked around the tomb. There were no secret doorways, no other entrances except at the mouth of the cave and that still was covered by a huge round stone. All was ready.
The face of his divinity passed through the shroud beholding the face of his humanity. He breathed on the eyes, especially the left eye which was badly swollen. He passed his breath over the cheeks and brow and the wounds on the face. Lastly he kissed the battered mouth.
Live! He called the name of his humanity the same as he had called Lazurus from the tomb. Jesus! He felt the at-one-ment of the Godhead, the embrace of love and his glory passed into his humanity. His power rushed through the shell of human flesh, reaching all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes, animating muscle and tissue.
Jesus now had joined His divinity with his humanity. The very presence of the divine nature within human flesh caused the body to raise away from the part of the cloth that lie beneath and to hover suspended between the top of the shroud which had covered the skin from head to foot. One breath of divinity and a blaze of incandescent beams of light shot from every part of his wounded humanity, fingers, toes, eyelashes and each strand of hair became infused with this radiance imaged on the very shroud that possessed him. Then, ever so gently, the body again took a position of rest on the stone slab. Virtue flowed to the wounds on back, chest, legs and arms. He commanded restoration and the wounds faded into scars, but the wounds on His hands, feet and side he kept opened.
He felt clearly the rise and fall of his bosom. Jesus realized with complete joy he was once again united to his humanity! I am born all over again! He thought contentedly. Now he was a man and not the tiny baby born in Bethlehem but the same as an infant first discovering fingers and toes were Jesus’ first movements. Soon he lifted his hand, pressing it gently against the linen draped like a tent over him. He opened his human eyes, his divinity peering out of them. He saw the sepia covering and the red blood stains, his crucified body mirrored on the linen. The breath of his nostrils caused the cloth at once to cling to his face, then loosen and once again cling…
“Arise!” he commanded within himself.
Jesus sat up! He removed the shroud from his head, swung his legs over what had been his stony bed and let his feet dangle barely touching the floor of the cave. Giving a wide stretch of arms over his head he was about to speak but realized the chin band was still hindering any movement of his mouth. Hastily freeing the bandage he laid it aside, laughing at his predicament. At first he caught his breath when he realized the sound of his laughter filled the tomb. He laughed harder.
“Abba! My Abba!”
For the first time he spoke audibly. The same voice that had spoken to the multitudes, hushed the waves on the Sea of Galilee, comforted the widow of Naim, his voice fell like a soft caress on his ear. He loved the sound of his human voice, a marvel created by the Godhead.
“Good morning, my Beloved,” Jesus addressed the Father and the Holy Spirit. “I am here! We have done it!”
He listened for a moment. “Yes, I shall.” He agreed.
Laughing Jesus lay again on the shroud and pulled the cloth over him. Then he rose and passed right through the shroud! Standing he looked back and saw that the burial cloth lay like a cocoon undisturbed.
He was completely without the shroud and he began to examine himself. Jesus touched his forehead, his eyes, his nose, and cheek, the same Semitic features. He was delighted to find his beard fully restored. He had the same length of hair, the same broad shoulders and chest, the same sturdy legs that had traveled the rough Judean countryside and had walked the narrow streets of Jerusalem. His stature hadn’t diminished. In fact, he had to stoop a bit because his head touched the ceiling of the tomb when standing upright.
“Here I am inside my own tomb.” He laughed when he had to bend away from the ceiling.
Jesus found every part of himself new and restored. Yet there were glorious new additions to his body. That is what he treasured and loved the most. These were his wounds clearly marked on his hands, feet and side. He held up his right hand and saw the red wound and the purple bruising around the edge.. He could see the hole caused by the crucifixion nail and how it had passed through his hand. A white flame leaped from the center of his palm. The same colors and flame was repeated in the other wounds. When he examined his side wound he saw straight into himself. He was lit up inside by a heart full of glorious light.
Ah so beautiful a place! Most intimate of all chambers! The sight of his opened side spilling over with radiance increased his joy. He could not help but smile as he considered how perfect a dwelling for the ones he had died for. He had become cleft, his own body the secret place for nesting doves.
Indeed his humanity was identifiable as Jesus the Nazarene whose entire being was a garment of illumination. He extended his hands, showing the Father and Holy Spirit. “How well we have done, Our Temple!” He cried. He lifted one foot and wiggled his toes as he showed the wound. “Behold!” Jesus did the same with the other foot.
They had done it. The Three had accomplished love’s most magnificent act together, each Person of the Godhead wholly supportive of the other. Even in the most difficult moment, when Father could not look upon Son because the Son had become sin, their love had conquered.. Jesus was pleased. He was thankful he had said yes to everything, not only the Passion but to every detail of his life on earth.
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