They laid Jesus’ dead body in the tomb. Their hopes and dreams of a conquering Messiah to overcome the Roman rulers lay dead, too.
So, their hopes all gone, and in fear for their lives, they all hid out. Life would never be the same again, but life would go on, even without the Messiah.
Except for the women. Their broken hearts gave them a boldness to go to the tomb that Sunday morning. What did they have to lose? They had already lost the only thing that ever mattered to them, their dear Jesus, and they had nowhere else to go, nothing else to do.
So they went to the tomb, as every mother and sister, every woman has for thousands of years, to touch the stone-cold hands one more time and look in the face of that precious one they loved more than life itself. They wanted to smooth oils and perfumes on that cold body to keep it from smelling one more day. In their grief, they just could not let Him go.
The women went to the tomb, worrying about who they could get to move the stone that covered the entrance, but when they got there, the stone was rolled away.
Jesus was gone, risen from the dead. He didn’t need to move the stone to get out. He proved that later when, in His newly resurrected body, He walked through the walls and suddenly appeared to His disciples.
But Jesus, being the gentleman that He is, saw to it that the angels moved the stone, so the women could come in.