John 20:1-2
“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 he tomb. 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.’”
Thus begins the greatest day in the history of the world. Jesus has risen but Mary, nor the disciples, are ready to comprehend all that’s taking place. She went up early, before dawn, likely with some of the other women too although John only mentions her, and is utterly flabbergasted to see the stone rolled away. We know from the other gospels that Roman soldiers had been placed at the tomb to guard it. The Pharisees worried that Jesus’ followers would come and steal the body and declare Him risen. “…and the last fraud will be worse than the first,” they said to Pilate. Oh, the arrogance! To call the mighty works of Jesus a fraud – even after they saw with their own eyes the raising of Lazarus.
But Matthew tells us that an angel of the Lord descended and there was an earthquake, stunning the soldiers. The angel, white as snow, and as bright as lightning (Matthew 28:2-3), sat on the great stone and this terrified Rome’s best. They were trained in the arts of war. They were soldiers of the world’s finest army and this simple display of power left them shuddering in fright. They ran to the chief priests and told them what had happened. Can you imagine? You’d think that the religious leaders would have paused at this point and been humbled. But sin hardens the heart so that it’s less reasonable, less open to the facts than a stone laying along a hill. Instead of being intrigued, they gave the soldiers money (money is always the answer for sinners) and told them to say that the disciples had stolen Jesus in the dead of night. This would, of course, earn the guards the death penalty but the chief priests assured them, so long as they maintained the lie, that they’d cover for them. Such are the world’s schemes. Even in our day today, truth is about power, manipulation and spin. Nothing has changed. Sin never learns its lessons.
All of this is going on, of course, all the politics and lies, and Mary simply moves at the direction of her love – and that love is her love of the Lord. She’s low and downcast and brings more perfume for the body of a crucified criminal. She’s the loser and the Pharisees and soldiers are the champions of the time. What can be more pathetic than a lowly woman going to the tomb of a discredited religious charlatan whom the leaders called a fraud?
We see her faith, don’t we? We see her trudging out in the early morning, motivated by that great love she had for Him, her steps probably blurred by her still fresh grief and her tears. Life would likely never have appeared so dark as it did for her that morning. Jesus was dead. They’d murdered Him. And now there were guards and the tomb was sealed. How did she think she was going to see Him? You see, her journey that morning only makes sense because of faith. This is how God makes foolish the wisdom of the world. All the lies and bribes of the chief priests couldn’t keep Jesus in the tomb and the gospel from being proclaimed. Mary doesn’t know this yet, though. She just follows the heart of faith and that heart loves Jesus.
That’s the only difference that matters in life. What does your heart say about Jesus Christ? It’s the ultimate question of life because, behold, He’s not in that tomb anymore.
But even when she sees the stone rolled away and the guards gone, she doesn’t come to the right conclusion. She assumes that the powers have moved Him. That’s her lone thought. Her great fear is losing His body and she’s so blinded by this dread that momentarily she can only consider the power of Rome and the chief priests and not that of God. Her conclusion is understandable because she’s seeing the events of the day as happening to Jesus rather than the other way around. A love that doesn’t rest in God’s sovereignty is a love that’s never at rest. It’s a tempestuous faith that loses sight of the great truth that God is never reacting to circumstances. So she runs to the others and unwittingly tells them a false report. She tells Peter and John that “they’ve” taken Him when, in fact, history has just changed and the assurance of salvation and life everlasting has just occurred.
We must beware, Christians. We must take heed of this passage so that we don’t see the events of our lives as happening outside of God’s control lest we give voice to those fears of faithlessness and thereby negatively impact others. When we see only the world’s forces, the politics, the lies, the schemes, the cronyism, and all the tumult these cause, we’re likely to speak as Mary did here. We say, “did you see what they did to the church?” No. We shouldn’t look at it this way. We shouldn’t see a day’s events absent the will of God. We should ask, with wonderful awe, with love and expectant faith, “I wonder what our great and loving God is doing in this situation?”
Jesus Christ is risen and Mary doesn’t know it yet. Oh, praise be to God for His mercies, for we are all so faithless at times and so easily led astray by worry. We must learn to discipline our souls to remember His resurrection, His word, and even the personal triumphs where God has worked in our past. Everything is moving – it’s always moving; but Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever. The faith and love that fixes upon Him shall stand firm amidst the tumult. When you’re shaken, when you’re low, remember that angel sitting casually on the stone that was supposed to hold Christ in the tomb. What a scene!
We don’t rejoice merely because our circumstances are presently good, but because we have Christ who is Lord of all circumstances.
Recent Comments