Poem: “Racing to the Tomb” by Macrina Wiederkehr, OSB

On a morning that felt like Easter, 

in the spirit of Peter and John, 

I raced to the tomb. 

All those who have come to depend on me 

and I on them 

seemed to be racing with me. 

They got there first but waited, 

Too reverent to enter without me.

 

Peering into my baptized heart, 

my tomb 

where my life is hidden 

with Christ 

in God 

I entered 

with resurrection on my mind.

 

Those who raced with me 

followed me in 

always waiting 

for me to make the first move. 

Waiting and watching 

for the dough of my life to rise 

companioning me in the rising.

How difficult it is to rise alone 

And such a comfort 

when someone waits with you 

for the rising.

 

What is the sense 

of Jesus having risen 2000 years ago 

if I cannot put my linens aside 

and claim resurrection 

as my own today!

 

The problem came 

when my friends had to go away 

to race with someone else 

to the tomb. 

I began to doubt my rising 

and started to cling 

to the linens again.

 

But I was lucky enough 

to run into the gardener, 

and Mary’s question 

became my own, 

Where is the One I love? (John 20:14-16)