Two mourners at least lingered at the closed tomb.  “Mary Magdalene was there, and the other Mary, sitting over against the sepulchre” of their Lord, after they “beheld where He was laid.”  John’s parting from them at that evening hour was in sadness which was to be deepened when he met Mary Magdalene again.

It is not easy for us to put ourselves in the place of John, as he turns from the tomb toward his lonely home. We know what happened afterward, but he did not know what would happen, though his Lord had tried to teach him.  He is repeating to himself the words he had heard from the cross, “It is finished,” but he is giving them some difference of meaning from that which Jesus intended.  He is walking slowly and sadly through the streets of Jerusalem, dimly lighted by the moon that shone in Gethsemane the night before upon him and his living Lord.  We imagine him saying to himself:—­“Truly it is finished:  all is over now.  How disappointed I am.  I do not believe He intended to deceive me, yet I have been deceived.  From early childhood I looked, as I was taught to do, for the coming of the Messiah.  On Jordan I thought I had found Him.  He chose me for one of His twelve, then one of the three, then the one of His special love.  What a joy this has been, brightening for three years my hopes and expectations.  I have seen Him work miracles, even raising the dead.  I have seen Him defeat the plots of evil men against Him, and did not believe any power on earth could destroy Him.  I have watched to see Him the great and glorious King.  But to-day instead of this I have seen Him crucified as the feeblest and worst of men.  I do remember now how Moses and Elijah, when we were with them on the Holy Mount, talked with Him of ’His departure which He was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.’  But I did not understand them, nor even Himself when, just before we ascended the Mount, He told us ’how that He must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things, ... and be killed.’  I do not wonder that Peter then said to Him, ‘Be it far from Thee, Lord,’ though the Lord was right in rebuking him.  Can it be only last night He said, ‘Tarry with Me.’  How gladly would I do it now.  But He is dead, and buried out of my sight.  Oh that I might see Him rise, as I did the daughter of Jairus.  Oh that I might roll away the stone from His tomb as I helped to do from that of Lazarus, and see Him come forth.  How gladly would I ‘loose Him’ from His ‘grave-bands’ and remove the ’napkin bound about His face.’  I know it was a mean and shameful taunt of His revilers when they said, ’If Thou art the Son of God, come down from the cross.’  But why did He not do it?  I remember how once He said concerning His life, ‘no one taketh it away from Me.’  But have not Pilate and the Jews taken it away?  I shall never lean upon His bosom again.  But this I know—­He loved me, and I loved Him, and love Him still.  The mysteries are great, but the memories of Him will be exceedingly precious forever.”