Day of Resurrection

April 8 Day of Resurrection John 20:1-18

“(T)he voice of the Shepherd penetrates Mary’s mind, opens her eyes, arouses all her senses and so affects her that she forthwith entrusts herself to Christ. Thus in Mary we have an image of our calling. For the only entrance to the true knowledge of Christ is when He first knows us and then intimately invites us to Himself, not by the ordinary voice which sounds in everyone’s ears indiscriminately, but by the voice with which He especially calls the sheep whom the Father has given Him.” John Calvin “Commentary on John” Vol. 5:198

Suddenly, there is a lightness to the text. The slow, steady inevitability of Jesus’ last week gives way to breathless anticipation. A new day had dawned. Early on Sunday morning, Mary Magdalene came to Jesus’ borrowed tomb. She had been among the women who had gathered at the Cross. She had seen Him breathe His last. Now, she was coming to mourn. But when she reached the tomb, Mary discovered that he stone had been rolled away from its entrance. Resurrection was not on her mind as she ran to Peter and John, to tell them what she had seen. “They have taken away my Lord,” she cried, “and we don’t know where they have put Him.”

Peter and John ran to the gravesite. John outstripped his fellow-disciple but hesitated at the entrance. Peter barged past him into the tomb, but he found no body there, only the strips of linen that had bound Him, and the burial cloth from His head. These had been folded and placed to one side – surely not something that a grave-robber would have troubled to do. John, following, felt the first, faint flutterings of hope within Him. Could it be? Overcome with wonder the disciples left, making their way to their homes. Mary remained.

Confused and still distressed by what she had witnessed, Mary stood by the stone and wept. As she bent over to look into the tomb her morning took another dramatic turn. Two men in white, angels, messengers from the Lord, were there, sitting on the raised shelf where Jesus’ body had lain. They asked why she wept and she replied with the same phrase: “They have taken away my Lord, and I don’t know where they have put Him.”

Behind her a figure stirred. Taking Him to be a gardener, Mary repeated her question. If only she could find out where they had taken Him, she would go to find Him. One word awakened her. Jesus spoke her name, and in that instant she knew. “Rabboni” she exclaimed, meaning “Dear Master.” The intimate form of her instinctive response demonstrated the depth of her love. Still kneeling, she made to grasp His feet. “Don’t hold me now,” He said, “but go instead to my brothers and tell them…” Gladly, joyfully, she did as she had been asked. If, then, she shed yet more tears, this time they were tears of joy. She ran to tell them, all pretense of decorum gone. Her world had changed. Despair had turned to hope; grief had turned to joy, all because of an empty tomb and a risen Savior. Mary’s enthusiasm was contagious. It took time for the shocked disciples to catch up with her, but they did. Soon, the Gospel was being whispered around Jerusalem. From there it spread until even mighty Rome heard the amazing story.

And what a story it was – a love story without equal. The Gospel proclaims that the God who made us loves us still. Despite the folly and the rebelliousness of the human race, in Jesus Christ, God has made a way whereby, through repentance and faith, we can be reconciled to our Father in heaven. That reconciliation is not only for this world; it extends beyond the grave. Death itself holds no horrors now for those who trust in Christ.

Breathless, excited beyond words, Mary reached the place where many of the disciples waited. It was an upper room. She broke the wondering silence with words that echo down the centuries. Wicked men did their worst, but death could not hold Him. “I” said Mary, “have seen the Lord.”

For further reading: Psalm 113