For
the Christian faith family, the last few days have seemed like an eternity as
we’ve reflected on final meals, foot washings, betrayals, brutal beatings,
crucifixion, and preparation of Jesus’ body for burial. After all of that—and
because of all of that—we long for this day to come (Easter Sunday Morning) when
we gather to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus as God’s triumph over sin and
death, and what a glorious day it is! The stone is gone, and we even stuck our
heads into the tomb for good measure. Jesus is no longer in the tomb, nor has he
been taken. The cry goes up in Christian Churches all over the world, “He is
risen! He is risen, indeed.”
Countless
sermons have been delivered on this passage and rightfully so. It contains a
series of powerful moments: an apostolic footrace, linen wrappings without the
corresponding corpse, a weeping woman, angels, and a risen but unrecognisable
Lord. Often lost in these narrative elements, however, is Mary Magdalene’s
troubled refrain: someone has taken away my Lord. She expresses a concern for
the location of Jesus’ body no fewer than three times throughout this passage
from John 20.
Mary
first reports the body’s disappearance to Peter and the other disciples. This
first Easter proclamation is filled with blame, doubt, and uncertainty. Her
words prompt Peter and the other disciple to go and see for themselves.
Similarly, in tear-laden words, Mary reports to the two angels that “they” have
taken away my Lord, never once stopping to inquire of the divine messengers
regarding Jesus’ location.
On
a third occasion, in the presence of Jesus himself although she mistakes him
for a gardener, Mary wonders aloud about the location of the corpse. In an
interesting narrative twist, Mary seeks clarification from the supposed
gardener: “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him,
and I will take him away.” The anxious uncertainty that motivates Mary’s
remarks and questions is somehow anchored in her ignorance of the Resurrection.
She has yet to encounter the risen Lord.
It
is almost as if the absence of his body exacerbates her grief. Mary Magdalene’s
frantic search for Jesus suggests that finding a corpse on Easter morning is
preferred to the absence of Jesus’ body altogether. She has found her treasure,
yet she does not recognise its form. She is holding on to the crucified Jesus
so tightly that she is unable to grasp the resurrected Lord. As humans it is
often the way we too act as we grieve the loss of a loved one.
Mary’s
frantic search ends abruptly when Jesus calls her by name. Her eyes and heart
are opened to his presence as she hears the familiar voice of her rabbi, her
teacher. Although the text does not say, it is not difficult to imagine Mary
reaching out to embrace Jesus or falling at his feet. Her mind must be filled
with relief, confusion, and sundry questions at this point. Her Easter morning
is indeed a serendipitous one.
It
is striking that immediately after Mary realises it is Jesus who stands before
her, she is forbidden to cling to him: “Do not hold on to me, because I have
not yet ascended to the Father.’ She is then instructed to deliver a message to
the brothers: “I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your
God.” What! You can’t be serious! What kind of tragedy is this? It isn’t enough
that Mary is mourning the torture and crucifixion of her teacher, now her own
expectations in the wake of his death and subsequent resurrection are
frustrated as well. Why is Mary being told that she is about to lose Jesus yet
again? Granted, she is not losing Jesus to death, but she is losing him to the God.
I
wonder if we need to question more deeply Jesus’ response to Mary on that first
Easter morning if we wish to learn something of what Jesus’ resurrection inaugurates
for us and within us. Jesus, we read earlier in our scriptures informs those who
follow that in a short while the world will no longer see him. He goes on to
say that he will be visible to his followers. Jesus also at one point promises
that “I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice.” Is it possible that
Mary has mistaken Jesus’ appearance to her on Easter morning by associating it
with the promises made?
Questions
to ponder. Mary Magdalene mirrors many of our concerns and wishes on Easter
morning. Resurrection seems so unlikely, so distant—although it is ever so
near. Like Mary, we who are of the Christian faith or seeking are frantically
searching for whatever shred of proof or foothold of new life we can find. Yet
this passage insists that we not expend energy trying to hold on to Jesus or
worrying about losing him, for only when we release him to God do, we receive
the permanent indwelling of the Holy Spirit.
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