Holy Week Portraits: John (part 2)

John sat with Peter in the home of a friend in Jerusalem. The other nine disciples had gone to Bethany the night before, but Peter had not come with them, and John had gone to find him. He’d been worried about what Peter might do. After Jesus’ prediction about his betrayals had come true, Peter hadn’t been the same.

They’d spent a long night talking and weeping, only sleeping for a few hours in the early morning. Now that it was getting light, they were planning to rejoin the rest of the disciples at Larzarus’ house. They needed to all get out of Jerusalem and the surrounding area before the religious leaders decided to hunt down Jesus’ followers. John’s connections should keep himself safe for the time being, but Peter was a wildcard, as usual. The earlier they left the city, the better.

A commotion at the door made John’s heart jump. Had they come already?

A voice shot through the house, “John! Peter!”

It was Mary Magdalene. In a moment, the woman stood before them. “What is it?” John asked. “Are soldiers coming?”

Mary shook her head. “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we don’t know where they have put him!”

Peter jumped to his feet. “What?!”

John stood as well.

“We went to the tomb this morning,” Mary explained, “to wrap his body in spices. But when we arrived, the stone was rolled away, and the guards were lying as if dead. I ran all the way here. Do you know what happened?”

Peter bolted for the door. John was quick behind.

They ran the whole way there, John arriving first. It was exactly as Mary had described it. He stood stooped at the opening, stunned to stillness. The strips of linen were lying where the body should have been. Peter arrived a moment later and pushed past John into the tomb. John heard his friend gasp, and he stepped into the tomb to see what Peter could see. The face linens were wrapped, as if a head lay still inside them.

“What do you think it means?” Peter asked.

John shook his head, still stunned. He had no idea.