The Folded Grave Cloth

As I beheld the Lord this morning, I saw Him fold His burial cloth.  This speaks volumes to me.  I think of things that I am uninterested in doing.  I think of things that seem such a burden.  So much seems out of control.   Sometimes, I just want to run away from the University of Unlearning. 

In the cave/tomb, you would not think that the burial cloth would matter.  The symbol of death became a symbol of life…He is risen!  The message of the folded cloth really touched my heart this morning.  Not only does it speak of neatness and order, but this morning it taught me something that feels like a transition truth.

The hands of Jesus did this relatively insignificant deed.  That means that it was not insignificant.  He took time to bring order before He left the tomb.  This is a mirror of the order that He provided the world in His redemption.  I see Him looking around the tomb, and He holds the burial cloth in His hands.  Having gotten victory over death, He had respect for the experience of it.  He folded the burial cloth.  That which had bound Him in death served its purpose.  In the resurrection, He laid it aside with respect.  His transition from death the living speaks to us.  He stands holding His burial cloth.  In His hands, He holds the symbol of a work completed.  He gently folds it—it is blood stained.  The resurrection power emanates from Him.  Truly, the temple has been cleansed…destroy this and in three days. 

I see the Lord in the tomb with the folded cloth in His hands.  He gently lays it on the rock upon which He had been resting in death.  The burial cloth covers that place of sacrifice and death.  His robe of death is exchanged for His white robe of righteousness.  He became sin and took the burial cloth willingly.  In a life full of brokenness, we kick and scream against the death and burial experience. 

I see Him this morning standing in the tomb with the burial cloth in His hands.  He teaches me.  My heart is made tender towards everything that seems ordinary.  The Lord, standing between death and life, the glorious Lord, King of Heaven and earth, took a minute and folded His burial cloth.  This picture brings harmony to my heart.   It is a message full of blessing to my life.

So often that which has held us captive in our tombs of death is not treated with respect.  Impatiently, we pull and tug to get it off.  We throw it away from us with disdain.   We are ready to run into life—into the new.  Jesus respected the experience because of what it meant to Heaven and earth.  It is a transition truth. 

I feel like I am standing in my own tomb; the grave cloth in my hands.  I look at the experience of healing abuse and dysfunction, and I am glad that this part of my experience is over.  The Lord has walked with me.  As the Lord and I stand in this most holy place experience this morning, I hear Him say that I need to respect the experience and cherish all those trials.  It all served as instruction. He says to respect this moment as I stand there with the grave cloth in my hands.  Realize that nothing has been in vain.  It all led to crucifixion, the tomb, and resurrection.  It all leads to a place of rejoicing in the heart as I realize nothing has been wasted, no effort insignificant.  It was about embracing the cross daily.  It was about dying to self so the resurrected Jesus might have a cleansed temple in which to be enthroned.  The heart has been cleansed, and He can take His rightful place on its throne.

Respect where you have been, from where you have come.  He stands with you as you fold the grave cloth.  Enjoy this moment…His victory in you.  Rejoice in this transition place of misunderstanding and hating our own experience.  Rejoice!  The process of knowing good and evil has cleansed my temple.  I can respect the process and gently and tenderly fold the grave cloth.  Praise God!