Unafraid, John goes into the interior room and I am beside him as he
pauses, gazing in rapture at the light before him.
No place of sorrow, mourning, or death exists here. All is drenched,
transformed by this heavenly light. And following John's gaze, I behold
two splendid angels. They are quite large. I see them interiorly as
beings of light, but with human form. There is one at the head where Our
Lord's body lay, and the second, no less beautiful, is at the foot. Both
angels are upon their knees in reverence and adoration. They are there to
keep watch over this holy place.
I am given to understand that the angel at the head is the same angel who
came from Heaven to comfort Our Lord in His Agony in the Garden. The angel
who kneels at the foot of the tomb is the angel who accompanied our Blessed
Savior's soul as it was surrendered to the Father as Jesus died upon the
cross; the angel who went with the Divine Soul to the place where the souls
of the just awaited the Savior, and then into the very bowels of hell,
where Lucifer and all his demons were forced by God's power to acknowledge
Jesus Christ as the Only-Begotten Son of God, Savior, Redeemer, King of
Kings. The angel who came with Our Lord's soul as the Divine Soul
re-entered the lifeless body and transformed it into Glory beyond words.
John can move no further. He is weeping with joy! The first angel
speaks. I say 'speak' for that is the way God permits me to hear the
voice, although the voice of Heaven is the sound of perfect love and has
neither words nor description to explain it in words.
He is not here. He has risen as He foretold."
John nods, humbly. He is crying, striking his breast, giving praise to
God for all of His wonders.
Just then, a breathless Peter stumbles into the tomb. I hear the
footsteps, the labored breathing, but do not turn from the heavenly sight.
Neither does John who stares in ecstasy at the sight given him.
Peter comes up on John's other side. He is laboring to breathe, but says,
"It's dark. My eyes haven't adjusted yet from the brightness outside."
Yet, John continues to behold the resplendent angels, and they do not
move. I realize then that Peter does not see them. This has been John's
privilege. He says nothing, except "Look", and gestures to the slab where
the body had been laid.
Peter goes forward for a better look, oblivious of the angelic hosts who
adore and praise continuously.
His very human hands feel for and find the winding sheet neatly folded and
laid carefully on the slab. Still searching, he finds the linen, which was
placed about the head of Our Lord.
These pieces of cloth he takes into his gnarled hands and pressing them to
his chest, lets big drops of tears splash upon the bare stone.
"It is true. O! My God! How blessed are You in every land. How great
is Your goodness to Your poor Peter, who has in his trembling hands those
cloths, which bound You, but no longer hold You bound. O! My Lord and My
Peter turns to John, whose own eyes are awash in tears of joy.
"We must go, boy. We must make all haste. We have seen. He is not here."
"No, He is truly risen," John replies, and the angels' song rises in a
more beautiful song of praise.
"Come, let us go. There is no more to be done here. We will tell the
"And we will pray," John says, turning to follow Peter from the tomb.
"Yes, John. Together we must pray and wait. His Mother is still with us.
Surely she will guide us."
"We must send word to the others," John says.
"Lazarus' sister will have done so by now," says Peter, without any
affront. "She knew and spoke the truth. She did as He commanded her. Now
we must be together in prayer that we may be all that He wishes us to be.
John's smile evokes yet a higher song of praise and the light intensifies
and penetrates both men, only John alone is aware of it.
"We will go. You will take these, Peter," John says of the cloths Peter
still clutches to his breast. "We will give them to His Mother."
"Yes, of course, His Mother. She has seen Him. My heart tells me this.
It is only fitting. Peter, His Rock, crumbled at the moment of trial. I
am privileged to merely touch them. May God be blest for allowing me to
carry them to His Holy Mother, blessed of all women."
Together they turn to leave. John allows Peter to go first. He never
mentions his heavenly vision of the angels, nor their confirming words of
the Savior's Resurrection. I understand that John has also bee given many
graces, and infused knowledge while in this holy place. But in love and
prudence, he says not a word. He is truly happy for Peter, who leads the way.
The tomb is left behind, Peter, his precious treasures tucked safely under
his cloak sets out at a good pace. He has been revitalized. Hope has
sprung alive in him. He has a long journey ahead of him, but all this he
does not know. All his heart can repeat over and over is, "He is risen, my
Lord and my God!" to which al of Heaven gives endless praise. And my
interior vision ends here.