Mary Magdalene went to the tomb early on the third day after Jesus’ death.  She was coming to anoint Jesus’ body with oils and perfumes, in keeping with Jewish customs.  She was expecting to see the large stone still covering the entrance, and to have to ask the Roman soldiers standing guard at the tomb to roll it away for her to enter the tomb.  She was preparing herself for the stench of a body now dead for three days, having been left untreated in observance of the Sabbath.  The burial cloths would be stuck to the wounds left from the brutal torture the body endured. But when she arrived, the stone was rolled away.  There were no guards.  The burial cloths were there on the bed, but there was no body.  The tomb was empty. Mary was afraid.  She had been there for it all, a devout follower of Jesus and one of the women dedicated to taking care of the disciples as they journeyed from town to town.  She had heard every word.  Three days before, she had seen every whip lash and heard every cry of agony from Jesus.  She stood with Mary, his mother, as they watched it

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