Guards were posted outside the tomb of Jesus; the religious leaders wanting to be sure the body of Jesus wasn't stolen. Or maybe they were secretly afraid of the resurrection? And there is something that wants me entombed as well - locked in anti-love - in the death of addiction, cravings, fears, anger and that terrible tiresome, religious pride that believes and argues: I'm right; you're wrong.
But Jesus invites me to my own personal Easter. He wants nothing more than that I would follow him through the Holy Saturday of my personal inner darkness to the brightness of Easter morning - a changed and evolved way of thinking and acting.
Can I imagine giving up one old harangue, complaint or negative refrain that I keep rehearsing and returning to again and again. It's boring, worn out and produces nothing of life. Some people don't even hear themselves.
