Day 25: Mary at the Tomb
Looking for Jesus in the Wrong Place
"They asked her, 'Dear woman, why are you crying?' And she replied, 'Because they have taken away my Lord, and I don't know where they have put him.'... Jesus asked her, 'Dear woman, why are you crying? Who are you looking for?'... 'Mary!' Jesus said. She turned to him and cried out, 'Rabboni!'" — John 20:13, 15-16 (NLT)
Mary Magdalene had stood at the cross. She had watched Him die. She had been there at the burial, watching where the body was laid. And now, in the dark of early morning, she was at the tomb — not because she expected resurrection, but because this was the last place she had been close to Him. When you are broken with grief, you go back to where you last had the thing you lost. The tomb was not morbid; it was love that did not know where else to go.
She was weeping. The Greek word is a word for loud, uncontrolled grief — not quiet tears but full mourning. She had lost Jesus to death, and now she had apparently lost His body too, which was a different and perhaps more acute loss. Without the body, there was not even a grave to tend, not even a location for her grief to attach itself to. The stone was rolled away and the tomb was empty and she could not find Him anywhere.
She did not recognize Him when He spoke to her. She thought He was the gardener. This detail has always fascinated commentators: the woman who loved Him most, who had followed Him through His ministry and stood at His cross, did not recognize the risen Jesus at first. Perhaps her grief was too acute to allow for the category of resurrection. Perhaps the transformation of His resurrection body was sufficiently different. Whatever the reason, she was looking at Jesus and not seeing Jesus.
Then He said her name: Mary. And in the speaking of her name, she saw Him. All the disciples were addressed as a group — 'Woman, why are you weeping?' But then the personal: Mary. This is the pattern of the risen Christ: He addresses the group, but He sees the individual. He knows which name to say. And when He says it, it cuts through every layer of grief and confusion and misdirection to the place of recognition.
The brokenness of grief had brought Mary to a place where she was looking for Jesus in all the places she had last seen Him — in the empty tomb, among the grave clothes, in the missing body. The risen Jesus was standing behind her, and she could not see Him because she was looking in the wrong direction. Her grief was real, and Jesus honored it by going to her. But at the appointed moment, He spoke her name and redirected her eyes from the tomb to His face.
Sometimes brokenness keeps us looking in the wrong direction — in the tomb of a lost season, in the grave of a former version of our life, in the empty place where what we loved used to be. The risen Jesus is standing behind you. He knows your name. And when He says it, you will turn from the tomb and find that what you thought was gone is not gone at all — it has merely been transformed into something that no grave can contain.
Reflection: Are you looking for Jesus in the tomb of a past season — looking for Him in the form He used to take in your life, not recognizing the new form of His presence? Listen for Him to call your name.
"The resurrection does not return things to the way they were. It transforms them into something better than they were. And the risen Christ is not found in tombs. — N.T. Wright"