Not many people know that I had always wanted to be a soldier. In my youth, I trained for combat and was later stationed in Israel for many years. I was about to set out east with my cohort to confront our enemy. I was excited for the conquest. But as I was packing, my commander grabbed a few of us and gave new orders. Instead of marching east, we were ordered on a long watch to guard the tomb of a crucified Jewish man. We hung our heads in disappointment. We had longed for the expedition. But like good soldiers, we obeyed. And off we went to the place of the Skull—our subjects called it Golgotha.

We arrived at the crucifixion site at about noon, at the change of shift, and relieved our comrades. A bloodied spear was handed to me to clean. I wiped it on my sagum, a red woollen cloak, and handed it back. We were instructed to follow the Jewish women, along with a wealthy Jewish man, in whose tomb the corpse of the Jewish man was to be laid. We followed them there and then waited impatiently for them to prepare the body for burial according to Jewish custom, but they seemed in a rush and unable to properly complete the preparation.

We were commanded to guard the tomb once everyone had left. The tomb was closed and sealed with the governor’s seal. There were murmurings among some of the Jews that this man’s disciples would come and steal his body. Our job was to protect the tomb and ensure that it stayed closed. We took turns playing tabula throughout the night while the others rested. The nights were quiet and uneventful except for the odd rustle of a rodent in the bush once in a while and a tu-whit tu-whoo from a nearby owl.

After the second night’s watch, in the early hours on Sunday, the sun began to rise. We were tired from guarding the tomb and expected that we would be relieved of our duty any time soon by the next guard unit. Rather than seeing soldiers in the distance, we noticed two women approaching us. I turned to my comrade, Gaius, and placed my hand on his shoulder, “I think the women from Friday are returning.” Suddenly, as I was speaking, the atmosphere changed. At first, it was not the light—it was the ground. It rumbled beneath our feet … Then it shook violently as it did at noon two days ago … I dropped my spear … and then a brilliant light came … it flashed around us. A large figure, like a god, descended from the sky. It touched the stone, and it immediately rolled away effortlessly. We were terrified … we flung ourselves to the ground as if dead. We had stood strong in the face of battle against charging men, but before this light, we could not stand!

How was I going to explain this to my commander? Shaking from fear, I peeked at the entrance to the tomb. This angel—or a god, as I first took him to be—sat on the stone that had been rolled away. He looked like lightning; he was dressed in clothing whiter than snow. He remained there as if waiting for someone. Just then, the women, whom I had seen in the distance arrived on the scene. They, too, were very much afraid.

I could hear the terrified voices of the women, and then the voice of the angel that sounded like a trumpet. It was loud and clear, piercing straight to my marrow. He told the women, “Don’t be afraid, I know who it is you are looking for, Jesus, who was crucified. He isn’t in the tomb. Just as he told you, he has risen! Come in and have a look and see for yourself where he lay. And then go quickly and tell the others that Jesus has risen from the dead and is going ahead of you, making his way to Galilee. You will see him there.”

For a moment, no one moved … and then suddenly, the women left as quickly as they could to tell the others with much joy, but with no small amount of awe and wonder… and then the angel disappeared. I did not understand it, at least not yet… all I knew is that whoever was in that tomb was no longer there. If this Jewish man had truly risen from the dead as the angel had said, then Rome was not as powerful as we believed it to be, and if not supreme in power, then who is?!

We fled the scene in terror because the penalty in Roman military law for our failure in guarding the tomb would likely result in the death penalty. The Jewish leaders intercepted us and gave us a large amount of money to say to the Roman governor that “Jesus’s disciples came during the night and stole his body while we were asleep.” At first, I was relieved by this lie as it spared our lives, otherwise we would have been executed. But now, looking back, I regret that I took the money and did as I was instructed because our false story circulated widely among the Jews, even to this day. We were nevertheless disciplined, but still with our lives intact, and relieved of our military duties.

Not long after, I discovered that the two women met the very man they had been seeking that morning, the man they call Jesus. The women report how they gripped Jesus’s feet and worshiped him. He told them with a loving, gentle voice, “Do not be afraid. Go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.” And off they went, and the world would never be the same again!

As for me, I too was never the same. Many weeks later, after Jesus’s disciples returned to Jerusalem, I was encouraged to join their community, which I did—back then it was called “The Way.” I witnessed how the Christian Church grew, but it was by no means easy. I lost my military status and had to learn to love my enemies.

Soon persecution erupted in Jerusalem, and years later, I made my way to Colossae after wandering through the provinces. It’s a provincial city within the Roman Empire, and I felt at home, despite my new identity as a Christian.

In my youth, I once lived for the eagle of Rome, the military standard carried by each legion of the Roman Empire. I lived for the emperor of Rome and longed to serve on the battlefield. I always thought my life was defined by sword and shield. I had lived for Rome—for its glory, its power, and its rewards. But now my life is hidden in Christ Jesus. I no longer take orders from Caesar, for my life has been lifted to where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God.

And here I am many years later, sitting in the small Christian gathering in Colossae listening to a letter being read out by Epaphras from the Apostle Paul. As Epaphras read Paul’s words, something in me came alive: “Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.” (Colossians 3:1–3)

As I listened to Paul’s motivation for faithful Christian living, I realised what God has already done in my life. I thought back to that morning at the empty tomb—the earth shaking beneath my feet, the angel, and the stone rolling away. Despite the fear, I realise now that I too had been raised, not from death but from the old life I used to live. So, I began to turn my mind and desires away from earthly things like possessions, wealth, and military power, and set my mind on heavenly things such as faith, peace, patience, and love. For the first time, I am truly free from those earthly things that entangled me, because I am being transformed, becoming more like Jesus Christ.

I can see now just how different this new life is from the old one I once lived. In the army, everything was a transaction. You obeyed—you were paid. And you were rewarded when you fought. But this …. This is different. Jesus did not give me orders as Caesar did; instead, he gave me himself. And so, my life is bound up in his. I don’t just follow him; I’m joined to him. This is how intimate the relationship is. And if we are united to him who is in the Father, then we will be raised with him in glory, in a glorious resurrection. That’s Paul’s point: Jesus’s resurrection will one day be our resurrection too! This transformation in our lives has already begun because of what God has accomplished in Jesus Christ.

As for me,

I once guarded a tomb.

Now I follow the risen King.

AI Disclaimer:

This blog has been edited for grammar, clarity, and readability using AI-assisted tools. The core content, theological insights, and personal reflections remain my original work.

Disclaimer: The views presented in this blog are those of the speaker and do not necessarily represent the views of SATS.