Sam waking up in Rivendell: “Is everything sad untrue?”
Fairytales and myths, the pre-converted Lewis believed, were nothing but ”lies breathed through silver.”
Tolkien’s reply: No, they are mankind grasping at what they know to be true, even if they are conceptualizing it imaginatively, imperfectly, “they will also reflect a splintered fragment of the true light, the eternal truth that is with God.”
Carpenter, Humphrey. J.R.R. Tolkien: A Biography (p. 198). (Function). Kindle Edition.
What truth? Everything sad IS untrue.
1 Now on the first day of the week Mary Magdalene came to the tomb early, while it was still dark, and saw that the stone had been taken away from the tomb. 2 So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.” 3 So Peter went out with the other disciple, and they were going toward the tomb. 4 Both of them were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. 5 And stooping to look in, he saw the linen cloths lying there, but he did not go in. 6 Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen cloths lying there, 7 and the face cloth, which had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen cloths but folded up in a place by itself. 8 Then the other disciple, who had reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; 9 for as yet they did not understand the Scripture, that he must rise from the dead. 10 Then the disciples went back to their homes.
11 But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb, and as she wept she stooped to look into the tomb. 12 And she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had lain, one at the head and one at the feet. 13 They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” 14 Having said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing, but she did not know that it was Jesus. 15 Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” 16 Jesus said to her, “Mary.” She turned and said to him in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means Teacher). 17 Jesus said to her, “Do not cling to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father; but go to my brothers and say to them, I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’” 18 Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord”—and that he had said these things to her.
- John 20:1-18
The resurrection of Jesus Christ is credible, compassionate, and consequential.
Credible
This account is for skeptical people. That is, it is for people who formally are not Christians because they doubt the historicity of its claims. But it is also for the skeptic that lives inside Christians. Real, Holy Spirit filled Christians still wrestle with doubts. We will examine this much more in depth at the end of this chapter when we arrive at Thomas’ doubts. But whoever you are, whatever the strength of your doubts, the data points of the resurrection provide part of the answer you need. Not everything, but part.
The scene opens with Mary Magdalene arriving at the tomb of Jesus so early in the morning that it is still dark. The dark is a fitting metaphor for the gloom and disbelief that hung over Mary’s heart (darkness is a common theme of unbelief in John)—Mary was one of the witnesses standing at the foot of the cross at the moment of Jesus’ death. She saw the gory sight firsthand, had all the images burned into memory. And she has arrived to pay homage to this great man whose life was cut tragically short.
But, to her surprise, she finds that the stone which sealed the tomb closed has been removed. Rather than going in to investigate (remember, it is still dark, and the open mouth of the tomb was likely pitch black), she runs and finds Simon Peter and “the disciple whom Jesus loved,” that is John, and tells them: “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him,” (John 20:2).
Notice: she doesn’t say, “He rose from the dead, just like He said He would! He has risen, He has risen indeed!” Her immediate response is: “Perhaps grave robbers, perhaps the Sanhedrin, perhaps the Romans—somebody has stolen the body.” There is no sense that Mary (or Peter or John) were anticipating the resurrection. Which is strange, since Jesus had explicitly said that after He would lay down His life, He would take it back up again (John 10:18; see also John 2:19-21), and in the other gospels He explicitly says that He will rise from the dead after three days (see Matt 16:21, 17:22-23, 20:18-10; Luke 9:22, 44, 18:32-33; Mark 8:31, 9:31, 10:33-34). In his raising of Lazarus, didn’t Jesus demonstrate that He has power over death?
Despite all of this, no one expected the resurrection.
What does all of this demonstrate? It demonstrates that the most devoted followers of Jesus were not expecting the resurrection to occur. There is a species of doubt that says, “These people were unscientific, premodern people who wanted to believe that Jesus was still alive, and so in a religious fervor, they hallucinated or twisted the facts to fit their expectations.” But this wasn’t what they were expecting, was it?
Let’s go a step further. When Peter and John arrive at the tomb and look inside, we are told that they find the burial wrappings “and the face cloth, which had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen cloths but folded up in a place by itself,” (John 20:7). If the grave was plundered by grave robbers, why would they leave the costly burial clothes and spices (the only thing of real value in the tomb), and take the body? Or, if the body was stolen by other disciples to propagate the myth of Jesus’ raising from the dead, why humiliate the body of Jesus by stripping Him naked of the burial clothes first?
Let’s go a step further. If you were fabricating this story, of all people to be the first eyewitness to the resurrection, why would you have Mary Magdalene by the first eye witness? Women’s testimony wasn’t considered credible, they couldn’t testify in court, and we know from Luke 8:2 that Mary Magdalene had seven demons cast from her by Jesus. Choosing a woman with a history of mental/spiritual instability as the original mouthpiece to go tell all the men of the resurrection would be, perhaps, one of the worst moves to persuade Jews and Romans about the truth of this message. The only reason you would ever include that in the story would be if it really happened.
Historically, the preaching and the rapid growth of the early church are alike unexplainable apart from an empty tomb. Even on the doubtful supposition that all the first Christians were dupes or hallucinating enthusiasts, the Jewish authorities, though they had every incentive to do so, could not come up with the body of the man whose execution they had organized. - Carson
Compassionate
11 But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb, and as she wept she stooped to look into the tomb. 12 And she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had lain, one at the head and one at the feet. 13 They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” - John 20:11-13
Peter and John leave, but Mary remains. Even though John comes to believe, he doesn’t seem prepared to summon Peter or Mary to faith. Perhaps he feels embarrassed or it seems too good to be true. Maybe everyone is just so discombobulated they don’t know what to do. But Mary is just grief stricken. At the sight of the angels in the tomb she remains emotionally blurred. John describes the angels rather reservedly as being dressed “in white.” The other gospels describe their appearance like “lightning” in their dazzling light. The disappearance of the body of Jesus is so painful that Mary is (seemingly) undeterred from her grief. The angels ask her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” And you can hear the pathos in her explanation to the angels: “They have taken away my Lord.”
Having said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing, but she did not know that it was Jesus. - John 20:14
Often in post-resurrection scenes, Jesus is not immediately identified. Obviously, since His body is not in the tomb, there must be some continuity between the physical appearance of Jesus before and after the resurrection. When Mary sees Jesus, she confuses Him for the gardener—He looks like a person. But there is some sense in which Jesus is not known, a veil lies between her and Him. Perhaps it is a testament to the nature of the resurrection body, fully flowering in health and glory—Paul compares the contrast between our current bodies and our glorified, resurrection bodies to the difference between a seed and a tree. Jesus’ resurrection body wasn’t ten feet tall, or emanating light, or hovering off the ground—the glory isn’t like that, but some deeper radiance of life and joy.
When the Son of God took on a real human nature, He became a real human being. And, specifically, He came in a lowly, humble estate. But in His resurrection, He is no longer a peasant of Galilee. He is the exalted, risen, King of Kings and Lord of Lords who will judge the living and the dead, the first and the last, the Alpha and the Omega. He died, and behold, He is alive forevermore, and he has the very keys of Death and Hell (Rev 1:17-18).
The last time Mary had seen Jesus, He had been the emaciated and bloodied figure expiring on the cross—now, it is made new: from the gory to the glory. And we might expect Him to reveal His glory to Mary in a way that moves the slider scale all the way from “humble” to “super duper mega powerful,” to show her the pyrotechnics and thunder of heaven’s power, pinning her back against the wall of the tomb with wave upon wave of light. Think of John in Revelation 1:12-18.
But He doesn’t. Not because Jesus is giving her less than glory, but the glory of God in its sweetest form.
15 Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” - John 20:15
Mary is mourning the death of the man she is talking to. Her abiding love for Jesus is evident, but so is her blindness. Mary would have heard the teachings of Jesus about His resurrection. She would have doubtless heard about Lazarus. She would have known that Jesus claimed to have authority over death and to wield the power of the resurrection—to be the very resurrection itself! (see John 11:25). But Mary is mourning because she is certain that all that remains of Jesus is a corpse, and it has gone missing.
And how does Jesus pull back the veil of unbelief in Mary’s heart? He does not speak with a voice “like the roar of many waters” and rebuke her with the sword of His mouth (Rev 1:15-16). He isn’t shaking His head, hands over His face, wondering how He got stuck with such thick, slow, and unimpressive followers. He doesn’t say, “Stop crying!” He asks her “Why are you crying? Whom are you seeking?”
Jesus said to her, “Mary.” She turned and said to him in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means Teacher). - John 20:16
I don’t know how many times I have read this story and have only stopped to consider the significance of this little detail till right now. Our names are precious to us; we will snap to attention much more quickly when someone says our name—with our names comes the idea that here is a person who knows us. Jesus did not resurrect into the higher plane of glory and have His mind wiped by the ascent; He didn’t look at Mary and say, “Who are you?” He knew her name.
But how you say a name matters a lot. You can say someone’s name in a way that communicates how you feel about them—anger, indifference, sorrow, annoyance, joy, affection. And there is something in the way that Jesus says Mary’s name that tears the veil of blindness: there is only one person who says her name like that.
He could have said “Mary” with a brittleness that indicated disappointment. Or a “Mary” with a resignation that told her that she just exhausted Him, or a “Mary” that thinly disguised a seething anger. All of those would make Mary recoil.
The tone, the timber, the warmth, the welcome, the excitement, the indelible mark of Jesus is carried along in the way He says her name. And what does she do? She throws herself at Jesus, she clings to Him, hugs Him so tight that He has to say: Don’t cling so tight. Was it normal for a woman to hug a man in that day? Of course not. But Mary doesn’t care. Jesus doesn’t care. It is the greatest day of her life: everything sad is untrue.
And this isn’t only true for Mary. Earlier Jesus taught about Himself as the good shepherd:
The sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. 4 When he has brought out all his own, he goes before them, and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice. - John 10:3-4
For those of us here who have put their faith in Christ, then we too have experienced our Lord calling our name.
Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. - Isa 43:1
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;
when you walk through fire you shall not be burned,
and the flame shall not consume you.
3 For I am the LORD your God,
the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.
I give Egypt as your ransom,
Cush and Seba in exchange for you.
4 Because you are precious in my eyes,
and honored, and I love you,
I give men in return for you,
peoples in exchange for your life.
- Isa 43:2-4
We know what Isaiah didn’t know: God doesn’t just give men, He gives the Son of Man, He gives His own Son in exchange for our life! For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son that whoever should believe in Him would not perish but have everlasting life! And He is calling your name, right now, because you are precious to Him, He loves you, He desires you, He welcomes you to His very heart.
Therefore welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God. - Rom 15:7
Consequential
Jesus said to her, “Do not cling to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father; but go to my brothers and say to them, I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’” 18 Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord”—and that he had said these things to her. - John 20:17-18
The compassion of Jesus has been the main theme of this entire text. Even the first point on the credibility of the resurrection—Jesus didn’t have the stone rolled aside so He could leave, but so that the witnesses could get in. He leaves the burial clothes, folds the head cloth, to leave evidence behind to help those who doubt. He reveals Himself compassionately to Mary. And now, He gives her a message of compassion.
He sends her to the other disciples with the news of His resurrection, but notice what He does:
First, He reaffirms that His disciples and Him have the same Father. This is why He reiterates that when He ascends, that is returns, to the Father, He is returning “to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.”
Second, this why He describes them as “my brothers.” Nowhere else in John’s gospel does Jesus call His disciples this. They are His friends, followers, disciples, servants. Picture yourself as one of the disciples. None of you believed. All of you fled at the hour of his arrest. And you begin to hear that Jesus has come back. What might be going through your mind? Imagine you were Peter. Why do you think John told us that he outran Peter to the tomb? What kind of guilty conscience had been weighing Peter down, what fears may make him sluggish to run to the empty tomb?
But Jesus is a compassionate, welcoming Savior, who commissions Mary to announce to these doubtful, half-hearted, sinful men: Jesus hasn’t given up them on. Jesus is still willing to have them, and so is the Father!
Both the one who makes people holy and those who are made holy are of the same family. So Jesus is not ashamed to call them brothers and sisters. - Heb 2:11, NIV
Brother and sister in Christ: Jesus is not ashamed of you. You are precious in His eyes, and honored, and He loves you.
You can be impressive, or you can be known. We are not, in truth, very impressive. We are sinners, doubters, and unbelievers in so many ways. And Jesus is not impressed with us. He is not standing back going, “Woah, did you see that guy’s quiet time? He read and prayed for an hour—wow!”
Jesus knows us. AND He loves us. He is not ashamed of us.
Why does Jesus send Mary to do something He could do Himself?
Because when Jesus welcomes us and calls us by name, He freights our lives with incredible consequence. He gives us a mission. Here in this brief snapshot of Mary being sent to the disciples we see a picture of what God is doing to all of us.
The resurrection scene, in John in particular, is intended to evoke the concept of New Creation. The resurrection, as all faithful Jews knew, was something the Old Testament taught would happen at the end of time, when God would usher in the New Heavens and New Earth. Jesus’ resurrection is therefore, as Paul describes it, the first fruits of this New Creation. And so, we cannot escape the fact that this scene is all playing out in a garden (see John 19:41), on the first day of the week (John 20:1), and Jesus is mistaken to be a gardener (John 20:15). It is like we are back in Genesis, at the beginning of creation, when God plants a garden (like a gardener) in Eden. In that creation story, God gives a mission to Adam and Eve: Be fruitful and multiply, fill the earth and subdue it!
Here, in the New Creation story, we find a similar mission as well: go and make disciples of all nations.
You matter more than you realize.