The women knew their effort was in vain:
No box of unguent, myrrh, or aloes could
Prevent the corpse from rotting; muscles would
”with bones and sinews”turn to dust again.
The body, pierced and bruised, had two nights lain
Entombed behind a massive stone that stood
Between these women and the pointless good
They meant to do for him who had been slain.
An hour past, two women race pell-mell,
With empty hands and bursting hearts, intent
On bringing news of angels who defied
Embalmers’ plans and bid them quickly tell
Apostles what they’d left undone: the scent
Of spices wafts from caskets cast aside.
The Church of Ratzinger (ft. Sam Zeno Conedera)
In this episode, Sam Zeno Conedera joins R. R. Reno on The Editor’s Desk to talk about…
Pelvic Theology, Pelvic Justice
In a recent New York Times guest essay, Catholic writer David Gibson praised Pope Leo for moving…
Can These Bones Live?
The Saturday after Easter, on a cloudless morning, I fell and shattered my left elbow while taking…