They were saying to each other, “Who’s going to roll the stone away from the entrance for us?” – Mark 16:3
The women going to anoint Jesus’ body after the Crucifixion should have planned better. Wouldn’t they have thought, before leaving, about the stone being a problem?
Maybe they didn’t plan because nobody thinks clearly in the midst of trauma, such as seeing your best friend die a torturous death.
Maybe they didn’t plan, also, because deep down they were hoping the stone would be in place. Keep the corpse away from view, and just sit outside and cry/reminisce. Keep the physical reminder of the Friday Horror out of sight, lessening the pain.
Yet, in their feeble way, they were following their heart, unsure of where that would lead. At least they weren’t holed up in a house like the fearful male disciples.
Their dawn-trek to the tomb was rewarded, as Jesus had once promised: “Blessed are those who mourn; they will be comforted.” By a Power greater than themselves, who is very good at planning. By a Love greater than their own, who is very good at creating new life out of an old past.
Maybe the definition of humility should be, “Understanding that no matter what we do, we’re not in control. Our plans always have an asterisk at the end.”
Jesus slept in a boat during a storm; he hadn’t checked the weather. He fed thousands without first contacting vendors. And he died on the cross without a blueprint as to what would happen in three days.
The women left for the tomb without knowing who would roll the stone away.
It turned out that God did.
Blessed are the poor planners, for Easter is their reward.