I was at the resurrection of Jesus. I was there. Really.
I saw Mary Magdalene, Mary and Salome come to Jesus’ grave and discover He wasn’t there. Really. I did.
I saw the shock and fear; then I saw their joy and celebration.
I saw Peter and the others dashing up the path. They looked inside in disbelief. I watched them ran away from the tomb and disappear into the dawn.
For four years I played roles in the Atlanta Passion Play. The play drew thousands of people to Atlanta during its three-weekend, 12-performance, 35-year run. One year I was cast as an angel in white at the empty tomb on Resurrection Sunday. I saw everything. The lines I spoke still give me chills years later. “Don’t be afraid.” I said. “Why are you looking for Jesus? He is not here. He is risen. Just like He said He would. Come see for yourselves. Now go tell Peter and the disciples.”
“Jesus is risen,” I announced it to the first visitors to the tomb. How blessed I was to have been there. How fortunate that they chose me to speak those lines and impact those audiences and call attention to the resurrection in that way
I felt like I was really there. It was real to me. That scene in the performance made the Resurrection come alive for me as never before. And I’ll never think about the Resurrection the same again.