Jesus conquered death with his own death. He had already shown himself to be the incarnate love of God, so we expected him to reveal that love to the very end and beyond. He no longer lies in a cleft rock behind a great stone but lives and moves and loves and loves.
He rose from the grave as a loving power animated by the Spirit of a loving God. His form was pure body. We who loved Him as a living man beheld Him with our eyes which He made for us to see; and we touched Him with these our hands with which he taught to reach forth. And we saw a man again.
I would speak of His face but how can I? His mouth was clearly made to speak words of grace and solace. The shadows in His eyes were deep. He was gentle, like a man always mindful of his own great strength. I later dreamt of a scene in which all the kings of the earth stood in awe of His presence and bowed.
The first time I came to his tomb after the Sabbath was like a night without darkness, and like a day without the noise of day. I saw the tomb and the discarded stone. I saw an emptiness and heard a quiet above me like a sky devoid of crows.
I stood before Him and spoke to him. His face was powerful to behold, and He said to me, “What would you, Mary?”
I could not answer Him, but my wings enfolded my secret and made me warm. And I swore that from that day I would always love as he loved and would always speak of him as an ever-present goodness.
(With apologies to Kahlil Gibran, Jesus: The Son of Man)