The tomb is like a portal, where we see Christ in death. Is this the ultimate catastrophe?

We enter the void of the tomb with Jesus. His mother, Mary, and Joseph of Arimathea prepare the shroud. Hewn rocks in this empty chamber echo a deafening silence. Does the small still voice heard by Elijah speak in this cave? Is it gone forever? We stand in this portal where God becomes death. Sealed into inky nothingness we claw for direction. This is the great, dark night of the soul of which many mystics speak. Precisely when God seems His most distant we are in our closest proximity to Him.

I patterned Christ after the image in the Shroud of Turin.

And Joseph bought a linen shroud, and taking him down, wrapped him in the linen shroud and laid him in the tomb that had been cut out of the rock. And he rolled a stone against the entrance of the tomb. Mark 15:46

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