BROKEN FREE I am writing this on one of my last mornings as the clock shows six. I have just drawn the curtains of my hospital room and I am surprised by an exceptional explosion of the red lights of dawn. Now that this sentence has been written down the sky has turned to its usual colourlessness. But that very eruption of those few seconds is exactly what the last station of this extraordinary way of the cross shows me. The Sabbath has come to an end at the moment the evening star rose in the sky. The gospel stories fall silent after all. They will not continue until the sun has risen again. Some women have come to take care of Jesus' body. In spite of the early hour they are too late; they find the tomb has been opened. In the opening of the tomb they see a boy who tells them Jesus is no longer there. What exactly happened before this has not been seen by anyone and is not related in any of the gospel stories. But what was not to be seen was still seen by Ted Felen's painter's eye. Indeed: an unimaginable explosion of light, colour and life. Jesus has broken out of the prison of the well meant tomb. Everything dark and black has been left behind. The thorns or the snares of death or whatever they were have fallen apart. Nothing can hold him any more, not even the exceptionally heavy stone that had been rolled into the entrance of the tomb. Jesus' hands are open and directed upwards, to his father's house where he will return to prepare a place for his people. His left hand bears the scar of the wound caused by the nail. Old wounds and scars are decorations one acquires in life, evidence that one has not existed in vain. Apart from the dark tomb from which he has broken free everything is light and white and shiny and golden. There is only freedom, joy and ecstatic delight. For it is not only Jesus' grave that is no longer a last resting place but a passing stage. All graves will be forced open. Not by robbers who dig for treasure as in the Egyptian Pharaohs' tombs, but by the One, the Eternal, who has promised He will not leave us behind in the realm of the dead. On the other side of the window of my hospital room the sky is full of grey streaks again. But the explosion of light has been burned into my retina forever.