The following is chapter 21 in the children’s series, If They Could Talk, the story of our redemption as it unfolds from Genesis to Revelation. This is the story of Jesus’ resurrection in Matthew 28, Mark 16, Luke 24, and John 20.
My Friends,
I know there have been many dark days since the Fall; for centuries life outside the Garden has been hard for man and beast. But the days were never darker than those that followed His death. Three days ago hell cheered, and heaven gasped; man’s treason never greater then when he killed the Son of God. Creation was in mourning. But that was about to change.
I am a cat. I like to hunt. Stalking brings me joy; this time I hoped it would make me forget. Night had yet to give way to dawn, but soon it would. Paying little attention to my path, I found myself in the rocky hills. I knew the place. It was where Jerusalem’s rich buried their dead. It was a hallowed place, a quiet place.
Without warning, as night slipped away and the dawn broke, the earth began to shake and then the sound of grinding—rock upon rock. Frightening screams filled the air. I clawed up a tree; partly out of fear, partly out of curiosity. It was Roman soldiers, now silent as statues. They starred at an open tomb and at an angel of light sitting upon a great rounded stone. Moments before it was death’s door, now pushed to the side, there the angel perched.
Then more activity as women came from the path. I smelled spices in their baskets; they came to anoint the body of the dead. I recognized one of them. She was one of His followers; they called her Mary Magdalene. My mind began to race. Could it really be? It must be; I was at His tomb.
I scampered for a better look as two women peered into the cave. There was a glow and a voice. It was another angel of light. He spoke, “Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen.” The heavenly messenger continued, reminding Mary and the others that Jesus had told them all this would be so; that He would be crucified and on the third day rise. They dropped their baskets as they dashed from the tomb. Looking at their joyous faces, they left to tell others.
Once again silence, all had gone. I was left to wonder. Then words from one of your prophets filled my mind: “Like a lamb led to the slaughter…cut off out of the land of the living…they made His grave with the wicked and with a rich man in His death.” And then more from memory whispered from my lips, “It was the will of the Lord to crush Him…His soul makes an offering for sin…and make many to be accounted righteous…bearing their iniquities…pouring out His soul to death…numbered with the transgressors…He bore the sin of many.”
Then I understood. He died so you might live. And then a prophecy from King David was recalled, “You will not abandon me to the grave, nor will You let Your Holy One see decay.” I purred and meowed all the way home. The Savior wasn’t dead; He was alive!
With the greatest of joy,
The Cat