John 20:1–18

In the past, demon possession had held Mary in its power. But the Lord set her free from this terrible condition. Her heart was attached to the One who had freed her. So she went with the Lord, along with some other women, waiting on Him in devoted service. Yet it seems her love went beyond theirs, and that is what brings her into prominence in this beautiful scene. We learn from this that Christ values affection for Himself above everything else. In His esteem love comes before service.

Mary had no thought of the Lord's resurrection, for it seems that not one of the disciples looked for His rising again. Love drew her irresistibly to the spot where she had seen the body of the Lord laid in the tomb. She found no rest in a world from which Christ was absent.

The light of the new day shines on us, and we walk in it. But for Mary Magdalene "it was still dark." Sight controlled her, as it did all the disciples, not faith. Nothing lifted the darkness in which they mourned and wept. She concluded that someone had been there before her — and who could it be but an enemy? It was not an enemy, it was the Father.

No one can point to spiritual understanding in Mary of Magdala. But she clung in deep affection to the Lord's Person, and He did not forget it. She was the first, as we shall see, to have joy in Him, and He puts honour on her. Yet what could be less worthy of Christ than her hasty conclusion from the empty tomb! She can think of Him only as under the power of death. His assurance of resurrection had left no trace, as if written on barren sand… Still, her heart was true to Him.

"Then she runs, and comes to Simon Peter." Love made her feet swift that day. And to whom does she run? Simon Peter. Why? … She knew the emptiness in her own heart, and she knew also what had happened with Peter, and it made her feel — here is one at least who will understand, if the rest do not.

Christ lay in the grave that Sabbath. But now He is risen — risen the first day of the week, the firstfruits of those who slept… So we do not celebrate the rest of the old creation, since we were completely lost as part of it. We celebrate the resurrection of our blessed Lord. It is the foundation and beginning of the new creation, when redemption is accomplished… We learn that the disciples came together the first day of the week to break bread.

She had been there before, though not alone, after the Sabbath had closed. It was growing dark toward the first day of the week — not "dawning," though the word can mean either. This is the true meaning of Matthew 28.

Some would separate an evening visit of the women to the tomb from a morning one, when the angel speaks to them. The words themselves do not require this, and it does not fit the account as a whole. The stone had already been rolled away by the time they got near enough to see. So the resurrection had already taken place… He was risen. The opening of the tomb announced to everyone that the grave was empty.

Scripture says, "So she ran and went to Simon Peter." Love made her feet fast that day. And who does she run to? Simon Peter. Why? There is a saying: "A fellow-feeling makes us wonderfully kind." She knew the emptiness in her own heart, and she also knew what had happened to Peter. It made her feel: here is one person at least who will understand, if the rest do not.

This is how he speaks of himself all through his Gospel. Did the Lord have a special love for John? I have no doubt that John's ways pleased Him. But the point for you and me to learn is this: he speaks of himself not by his name, but as the one who knew that the Lord loved him. Can you tell me the disciple today whom Jesus loves? ... If you do not have the sense in your heart of being "the disciple whom Jesus loves," you have not touched the heart of Christianity yet.

Mary had no thought that the Lord would rise, for it seems not one of the disciples expected it. Love drew her, and she could not resist, to the place where she had seen the Lord's body laid in the tomb. She found no rest in a world with no Christ in it... Clearly the empty tomb was no proof to Mary that the Lord had risen. All she can imagine is the unworthy thought that men of the world have been allowed to carry His body away.

Had someone robbed the tomb? That could not have happened. Had the disciples slipped past the watching soldiers and stolen the body? She knew they had not. Had the authorities quietly removed it? That, she might think, was possible. In her excitement she ran for Peter and John... "We do not know," she said. We believe this points to other women being with her, as the other Gospels suggest.

Mary of Magdala seems to be alone on the first day. Certainly, even if other women were with her or near her... (and the plural form here, "we do not know," may be only a general way of speaking), she alone draws the notice of the Spirit of God. He shows us a heart drawn, first, to a scene so overwhelming and yet so sacred — drawn by her love for Him whose body had been laid in the tomb. Then at last the Lord met her and blessed her, when the best resources among the saints had failed.

Bewildered, what could she do but run to Simon Peter and the disciple whom Jesus loved? Her grief was too great for one heart to bear, and when they heard her report they ran too. Her words shook them out of their sullen sorrow and put a surprising energy into them.

Mary Magdalene was herself living proof of the love of Christ, who had freed her from the seven demons. She loved the Lord with an affection that sprang from the greatness of His love, and that went far beyond her understanding. A happy woman after all. The understanding of Peter and John could be busy and satisfied with a work; Mary's affection could not. She needed more. She wanted the Person she loved.

What could she do in her bewilderment but run to Simon Peter and the disciple whom Jesus loved? Her grief was too great for one heart to bear, and on hearing her report they also ran. Her words shook them out of their sullen sorrow and put a surprising energy into them.

Love, stirred by words that sounded strange to their ears, led Peter to run along with John. His desire was no less, even if his pace was slower. He had slept when he ought to have watched and prayed. Then, when the crisis came, he denied his Master — and that after His solemn warning. But he was not a Judas — very far from it. He loved the Lord, and the Lord Himself knew that he loved Him. So, despite his deep and shameful sin, news he could not explain stirred his heart: the body was gone from the tomb.

Now I think that, if I had been asked which of these two was the stronger, I would have said Peter. I would have expected him to be the faster of the two. Surely he would outrun John. No, he is outpaced this time. Do you know why? Peter carried an awful load that day. There is nothing that puts such a drag on the feet as a bad conscience. Peter was not happy, and if you are not happy, you are not going very fast, dear fellow-Christian. Are you rejoicing in the Lord's love? If not, you may be sure your pace is not very rapid.

But he did not enter first. A need in Peter's heart carried him further at that moment than even the affection of John. John came first to the tomb. He stooped down, looked in, and saw the linen cloths lying there. But he did not go in. Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen cloths lying there, and the face cloth, which had been on Jesus' head, not lying with the linen cloths but folded up in a place by itself.

Peter and his companion run to the tomb. Their bodily strength alone carried them there, not the intelligence of faith. And there they see, not the One they were looking for, but the trophies of His victory over the power of death. There they see the gates of bronze and the bars of iron cut through. The linen cloths were there. So was the face cloth that had been wrapped around the Lord's head, as though He were death's prisoner. They lay like the spoils of the defeated, under the hand of death's conqueror.

Peter and John were slow to believe. The fact of the resurrection was plain when they entered the empty tomb. The folded face cloth and the careful order of the linen cloths showed that no one had stolen the body of Jesus. He had risen by His own power. No doubt they were amazed, but they went to their own home — there was no response on their part matching the immense fact of the resurrection. Why? Because as yet they did not know the Scripture, that He must rise from the dead. Scripture is now the resting place for faith. Whatever the outward evidence, there is no true faith apart from the written word.

It was not John only who went out at the news from Mary. Love, stirred by words that sounded strange to their ears, led Peter to run along with John, with no less desire, even if not so fast. He had slept when he ought to have watched and prayed. When the crisis came, he had denied his Master. The Lord's solemn warning beforehand made that denial far worse. But he was not a Judas: very far from it. He loved the Lord, and the Lord Himself knew that he loved Him. So, despite his deep and shameful sin, his heart was moved by news he could not explain: the body had gone from the tomb. The two disciples then raced to see which of them would reach the spot first. No hope of what had really happened had yet crossed their minds. Yet they were anything but indifferent to any small detail that concerned even His body.

They ran with eager haste and John outran Peter. The natural explanation was no doubt that he was the younger man; but there was also a spiritual explanation. John was more deeply impressed by the Lord's love for him, as he showed by the way he spoke of himself. Peter was under a cloud. He had trusted in his own love for the Lord, and that love broke down in a scandalous and public way when it was tested. The one who is most drawn by the love of Christ runs the fastest. It was a case of, "Draw me after you; let us run" (Song of Solomon 1:4).

It is very striking the way the Spirit gives us all these details… Now, if I had been asked which of these two was the strongest, I think I would have said Peter. I would have expected him to be the faster of the two. Surely he would outrun John. No, he is outpaced this time. Do you know why? Peter carried an awful load that day. There is nothing that puts such a drag on the feet as a bad conscience. Peter was not happy, and if you are not happy, you are not going very fast, dear fellow Christian. Are you rejoicing in the Lord's love? If not, you may be sure your pace is not very rapid.

The two disciples run to the tomb at once. But the Spirit of God has taken special care to record this: though Peter appears to take the lead, the disciple who on five occasions describes himself as the disciple whom Jesus loved outruns the disciple who had boasted in his love to Jesus. This apparently small incident is surely recorded for our instruction. May it not remind us that the one who rests in Christ's love will outstrip in Christian progress those who are making too much of their love to Christ? This is all the more striking in a passage that highlights Mary's devoted love to Christ. We may well covet Mary's love to Christ, but let us always rest on Christ's love to us.

John uses the very strongest word to express Christ's love for him: the disciple whom Jesus "dearly loved." And it was John who outran Peter and reached the tomb first, where their beloved Lord had lain. Does this not show that a sense of Christ's love in our hearts will make us run well in the ways that please God?

But he did not enter first. There was a need in Peter's heart which at that moment carried him farther than even the affection of John. John came first to the tomb. He stooped down, looked in, and saw the linen cloths lying there. But he did not go in.

"The other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first." Why was this? Nothing quickens the steps like love, and nothing weighs them down like a heavy heart. The man who had rested close to Jesus was bound to travel faster than his friend who had drifted from the Lord.

If someone had asked me which of these two was the stronger man, I would have said Peter... But John outruns him this time. Do you know why? Peter carried an awful load that day. Nothing drags on the feet like a bad conscience. Peter was not happy, and if you are not happy, you are not going very fast, dear fellow-Christian. Are you rejoicing in the Lord's love? If not, you can be sure your pace is not fast.

"Stooping down" — that is, sideways. Had he not done so, he would have stood in his own light.

What clear evidence this is that neither enemies nor friends had taken the body away! Why would either of them leave the linen wrappings behind? Who but a man rising from sleep would arrange the wrappings in this calm and orderly way? This must have been His own doing. He rose from among the dead and laid aside what did not suit His new condition and what He no longer needed. Compare how differently Lazarus looked when the Lord raised him from the dead. That difference shows the different character of the Resurrection.

There were the linen clothes lying in position, but Jesus was gone! The head cloth was not unfolded, yet the head it had wrapped was gone. It was the same at His resurrection. Jesus in His spiritual body entered the room where the disciples met, though the doors were shut fast. In the same way, He did not need to remove the clothes, unfold the head cloth or disturb the shroud. He rose calmly, leaving them just as they were.

Peter's steps faltered, and we know why. He was not free to run to the tomb of the Master he had so recently denied. John had no such hindrance, so he could run faster. But out of reverence he did not enter the tomb. Peter wanted to see his Master, so he went in and found the tomb empty. Then John entered too.

You may say, Why did not John go in? He was a Jew, and no doubt he had a Jewish feeling that if he went in he would make himself unclean. So this spiritual man, John, stops for the moment... Old impressions fill his mind and hold him back. "Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb." He goes in, without a thought for the consequences. The remembrance of his ways and words in the high priest's palace, and his denial of his Lord, spurred him to enter.

Here were two outstanding, godly people. Yet the aim of the inspired record is to show what feeds and builds up a soul. It is not evidence, however convincing. It is the truth revealed in the Scriptures, and God believed in them. Both Peter and John "saw and believed," "for as yet they did not understand the Scripture, that he must rise from the dead."

You may ask, why did John not go in? He was a Jew, and no doubt he had a Jewish feeling that if he went in, he would make himself unclean... "Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb." He goes in, with no thought for the consequences. The memory of his ways and words in the high priest's palace, and his denial of his Lord, drove him to enter. It led him to risk everything, and lose sight of everything.

He had slept when he should have watched and prayed. When the crisis came, he denied his Master — and that after His solemn warning, which made it far worse. But he was not a Judas: very far from it. He loved the Lord, and the Lord Himself knew that he loved Him. So, despite his deep and shameful sin, the news that the body had gone from the tomb stirred his heart... I reject the idea that John shrank from going in for fear of being made unclean. That would have kept him out later too, and Peter as well. Peter's eagerness burned more now, not less, because of his recent wrong. It drove him not just to glance in, but to enter and look at everything more closely.

John describes not only his own twofold look, but a further detail: Peter's intent gaze, noting how odd it was that the head cloth lay wrapped up by itself. What clear evidence that the body had not been taken away, by enemies or by friends! Why would either leave the linen wrappings behind? Who but a man rising from sleep would lay the clothes aside in this calm and orderly way?

John saw this and has recorded what he saw; and his record gives the lie to the report that was circulated among the Jews, that His disciples had come by night and stolen His body. If they had done that, or if anyone else had done it, would they not have taken the clothes with the body?

The word used for "wrapped up" speaks volumes. It means "folded inwards" — turban-shaped, or twirled. What was so striking was the way the various parts still lay in relation to each other. The Lord had detached Himself from the head cloth and the shroud without disturbing them, let alone handling them. Only a miracle could explain it. Some say He simply folded the cloth up again and laid it in a new place, to show there had been no haste and no removal of the body by friend or foe. That idea is weak beside the full reality.

Stronger still is the witness to the mighty power of this glorious Person. Having risen from the sleep of death, He can lay the grave clothes aside in a calm and orderly way. Lazarus came out of the tomb with the grave clothes bound on him, but the Lord left His behind.

They believed the fact, but they did not know the Scripture. It was not a truth to them, bound up with God's character and God's word. It was a fact. They saw that the Lord was risen. But the link between His resurrection and God's glory, and their own deliverance, had not yet crossed their minds.

It is like a man who has spent the night in peaceful sleep, then got up in the morning and laid his clothes aside. Here the Lord lays aside the death-clothes. What is the lesson? He has done with death. He has set aside everything that relates to death, the fruit and wages of sin. The head cloth folded and laid aside tells of the reign of death being over for ever.

The word ἐντετυλιγμένον speaks volumes. It means "folded inwards" — that is, turban-shaped, or twirled. What was it that captivated him? The remarkable appearance the wrappings presented in how the various parts lay in relation to each other. The Lord had detached Himself from the cloth and the shroud without disturbing them, let alone handling them. Only a miracle could explain what they saw. "A place apart" refers to the different position, consistent with the whole arrangement, which had not been disturbed.

John saw this and has written down what he saw. His record proves false the report spread among the Jews that His disciples had come by night and stolen His body. If they had done that, or if anyone else had done it, would they not have taken the clothes with the body?

There is no evidence of disorder, untimely haste, or hurry. Matthew tells us of an earthquake, as the angel rolled away the stone. Do you suppose that act was to let the Saviour out? God forbid the thought. What was it rolled away for, then? To let you and me look in. He had risen, in calm majesty, long before that stone was rolled away. He rose from the dead a triumphant, victorious Saviour. He left behind Him the silent but powerful proofs of the victory He had won over sin, and Satan, and death.

The usual meaning attached to this is that it shows the calmness and orderliness of the resurrection. But surely there must be some other explanation. It hardly seems a worthy idea that the Lord or some attending angel carefully folded the cloth and laid it apart. The real point of the incident is how unusual it is. Ordinarily, when a person undresses he puts his clothes together. Here it is the opposite. They are left exactly as they were. You would expect someone to unwind the cloth and put it with the other garments. But here it lies just as it had been, wrapped together — no doubt in the place where His sacred head had been.

When Lazarus came out of his tomb at the command of the Lord, he was bound hand and foot with grave clothes. That was a witness that he would have to return to that grave again. He needed friendly hands to loose him and let him go. But the body of Jesus did not need such service. It did not rise from the dead wrapped in the garments of death. He left them behind Him, undisturbed by His rising. Neither they nor the stone that closed the tomb had held back His triumphant rising. He left behind everything that spoke of chains and prison.

What did the tomb contain? What had death done with the Saviour? Or rather, what had the Saviour done with death? If the grave had held Him, His work was in vain, and not one of those for whom He had given Himself would stand acquitted or justified. The marks of death were there. Their very presence testified that death could not hold its prey, and that the victory over it came peacefully, without struggle or conflict. The "It is finished" was proved.

There were the linen clothes lying in position, but Jesus was gone! The cloth was not unfolded, yet the head it had enclosed was not there. In His resurrection body Jesus entered the room where the disciples met, though the doors were shut fast. In the same way, at His resurrection He did not need to remove the clothes, unfold the head-band or disturb the shroud. He rose calmly, leaving them as they were. And so, fellow-believer, it will be with you if you are alive at the Lord's coming.

Clearly the body had not been taken away from the tomb, for why in that case should the grave clothes be left behind? Stronger still is the witness to the mighty power of this glorious Person. He rose from the sleep of death, and He could lay the grave clothes aside in a calm and orderly way. Lazarus came out of the tomb with the grave clothes bound on him, while the Lord left them behind.

Going into the tomb they saw the linen cloths lying there, and the cloth that had been around His head lying apart from them, folded up in a place by itself. John saw this and has recorded what he saw. His record disproves the report that spread among the Jews, that His disciples had come by night and stolen His body. If they had done that, or if anyone else had done it, would they not have taken the clothes with the body?

That Christ was risen, only. He believed what he saw, but he had no knowledge of the Scriptures that Christ must rise (v. 9). So he saw, and he believed that He had risen. They did not know this by faith in the word of God, but they believed when they saw.

The words about not yet knowing the Scripture could be taken as the reason for this disciple's faith in the resurrection when he saw the empty tomb — that until then they had not known the Scripture which foretold it. We do not accept that view, and for two reasons. First, the verse states plainly that this disciple saw and believed. He believed when he saw, on the testimony of the empty tomb. Then it adds, as an explanation, that as yet they did not know the Scripture on the subject. Secondly, verse 8 speaks only of that disciple — it is "he saw and believed" — while verse 9 says they all did not know the Scripture. That shows the statement is about the common ignorance of the disciples.

It was faith, but founded on evidence, not on the written word… Theirs was a sound conclusion, a reasonable judgment of the facts they saw. But in itself that is only a human deduction, however right it may be, and not the heart submitting to the testimony of God. And it is John himself who, here as elsewhere, teaches us to draw this most important distinction.

If they had known the Scriptures, they would have needed no sight to convince them that the grave was empty. They would have been sure, triumphant and full of joy, waiting in that garden to greet their risen Lord. How great are the Scriptures! What assurance, what confidence they give to those who know them. Sight and sense may deceive us, but the Scriptures are the very word of the God who cannot lie.

First, the text plainly states that this disciple saw and believed — that is, he believed when he saw. He believed on the evidence the empty tomb gave him. Then, as an explanation, it adds that they did not yet know the Scripture on the subject. Second, notice that verse 8 speaks only of that disciple: "he saw and believed." Verse 9 says "they did not understand the Scripture." This shows the statement is about the ignorance shared by all the disciples.

Believed what? I do not think he exactly believed in Christ's resurrection. He certainly believed that the Lord was gone. He believed the report Mary brought, that the Lord was gone.

It was evidence, and there is no moral value in believing because of evidence. Believing the word of God has moral value, because it gives God credit for truth. A man gives himself up to trust God. So believing the Scriptures is something completely different from a conclusion worked out from the facts.

There they see, not the One they were looking for, but the trophies of His victory over the power of death... The linen cloths, and the cloth that had been wrapped around the Lord's head as though He were death's prisoner, lay there like the spoils of a beaten enemy, under the hand of death's conqueror... But despite all this, the disciples do not understand. They still do not know the Scripture, that He must rise from the dead, and they go away again to their own home.

They did not know that it was absolutely necessary for Him to rise from the dead. If His body had stayed in the tomb, what assurance could we have had that He had redeemed us? More than that, if death had held Him, we would have had no Saviour and no salvation. The resurrection of Christ is therefore the basic truth of the gospel. To take away the truth of the Lord's resurrection is to remove all hope — to leave the soul without hope.

David clearly foretold the resurrection of Christ in Psalm 16. Peter quoted that psalm on the day of Pentecost, and Paul quoted it at Antioch, to prove that Scripture was fulfilled when He rose from the dead. They argued that David was not speaking of himself. Though he was a prophet, he was buried and his body decayed. But the One whom God raised again saw no corruption.

Up to that moment, the great and glorious truth that He must rise from the dead never seemed to have got into their souls. He had pressed it on them again and again during His life and ministry. There is nothing we are slower to reach than resurrection ground.

The Spirit of God had not yet come; and, as many of us know from experience, until He opens up God's Word to us, we may hear and read it often without the slightest understanding of what it really means or how it applies. Remember too that "rising from among the dead" was a totally new thing to them, a new revelation, and so something they were completely unprepared for.

If they had known the Scriptures, they would have needed no sight to convince them that the grave was empty. They would have been sure, triumphant, rejoicing men, waiting in that garden to greet their risen Lord... Sight and sense may deceive us, but the Scriptures are the very word of the God who cannot lie.

Peter ran to the tomb, with John going along with him (John 20:2-10). Peter, always impulsive, went into the tomb first. When he and John saw the linen cloths wrapped up in an orderly way, but no dead body, they went away to their own home. If their Lord was not there, the tomb had no further interest for them.

To "see and believe" therefore falls far short of what the working of God gives. Traditional faith, or faith based on evidence, is its equivalent in the Christian world today. It is human, and leaves the conscience unpurged and the heart without communion. It may be found in someone who is in no way born of God (compare John 2:23-25), but also in a believer, as here. If so, it is not what the Spirit seals, and it in no way delivers from present things... Faith founded on evidence may strengthen a person against Deism, Pantheism, or Atheism. But it never gave forgiveness of sins. It never led anyone to cry "Abba, Father." It never filled the heart with the grace and glory of the One who is the object of God's everlasting satisfaction and delight.

This we do know: they "as yet did not know the Scripture, that He must rise from the dead." If they had known the Scriptures, they would have needed no sight to convince them that the grave was empty. They would have been sure, triumphant, rejoicing men, waiting in that garden to greet their risen Lord. How great are the Scriptures! What assurance, what confidence they give to those who know them. Sight and sense may deceive us, but the Scriptures are the very word of the God who cannot lie. We give thanks for every experience of the truth of them, but we would not rely even on our experience — it may fail us. The Word of God is the unshakeable rock on which faith rests without fear; it never fails.

Here we also have a further and marked testimony to its powerlessness. Verse 10 tells us, "Then the disciples went back to their homes." They knew the fact on grounds they could not question. But they did not yet value it as God's word reveals it. So they return to their old, unbroken associations.

And why did they go back to their homes? Because they had a home. They had spheres of interest, and to those spheres they go back. "But" — that is a wonderful little word — "But Mary stood outside the tomb weeping." Why didn't she go home? I don't think I am wrong when I say she had none. She may have had a house, but not a home. Where Christ had been was really the home of her heart... The fact was this: her world was gone, everything was gone, because He was gone. And oh, what a blessing it would be for each of us if Christ were everything to our hearts.

The disciples lack the divine understanding that the word gives. They also lack the wholehearted affection for Christ that makes Him the supreme Object of the soul. With Mary it is far otherwise. She too may lack understanding, but her love for Christ is an absorbing love that thinks only of Christ... But notice this: in that outside place she finds Christ, and Christ leads her into new and heavenly relationships. Her love for Christ detaches her from this world, and His company leads her into another world.

They had a home. "But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb." She had no home in a world that had cast out her Lord. It was empty for her. The world was from now on marked, for her, by the tomb where they had laid Him, where she had last seen the body of her beloved Lord. It was no place for her, now that He was not there: the light had gone from her life. She was bereaved and without comfort, and stood weeping. She was deeply attached to Christ. Are you? God saw in that woman a heart that beat very true to the person of His Son. Do you think He was an unobservant witness of those tears which fell so freely?

It is a striking instance of ignorant, yet genuine affection. She might have known His glorious resurrection. She ought to have remembered His words — "After three days I will rise again." Her faith and understanding fell short. Even so, her heart beat true to Him, her treasure. Contrast her with Peter and John, and does she not stand on a platform far above them? They can return to their home, satisfied that Jesus' body was not in the tomb, though they did not know where He was. This was not enough for Mary; her loyal heart longs to know where He is, and not finding Him, is ready to break with grief.

The sorrow of love for Jesus mourns His absence, or feels any wrong done to Him. It is far different from the sorrow of the world, which produces death. It soon passes into life and peace through the grace of Jesus. Mary's sorrow was not fruitless, nor was it long. Other servants of the Lord, and the Lord Himself, whom she did not see, looked upon her.

Peter and John looked into the tomb of Jesus and saw only the linen cloths lying, the wrappings of death. Mary looked into that same tomb. Her sight was blurred with weeping, yet she saw what they had not seen. Two angels in white sat there, one at the head and the other at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain. Those angels were heavenly messengers. They wore the clothing of victory in what was once the stronghold of the defeated enemy. The men believed the grave was empty of their Lord and went home amazed. The woman stood still, unable to leave that spot, and she saw further than the men. She learned that heaven had something to say about that tomb.

When Mary appears, they do have a word of sympathy for her. But they were in the tomb before she came, and they would have been there even if she had never come. In the tabernacle the cherubim hung over the ark and mercy-seat, one on either side. So now the angels hang over the place in the tomb where the body of Jesus had lain, one at the head and the other at the feet.

The vision before her eyes is in itself glorious, for they are angels whom she now sees! Her privileges are indeed very great, for she is speaking with heavenly beings! But gazing on and speaking with these cannot satisfy her longing soul. Even they, by their presence and by their words, cannot make up to her for the loss of Him.

Peter and John had seen the evidence of the resurrection — they "saw and believed" — and they "went away again to their own home." They had a home. "But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb." She had no home in a world that had cast out her Lord. It was empty for her. It was no place for her, now that He was not there: the light had gone from her life. She was bereft and comfortless, and stood weeping. She was deeply attached to Christ. Are you? God saw in that woman a heart that beat very true to the person of His Son. Do you think He was an unobservant witness of those tears that fell so freely? What was the result? Angelic comforters appeared.

It was not the linen clothes that she saw, the wrappings of death, but angels in white, heavenly messengers in garments of victory, now holding death's territory, which the Lord had subdued and taken. Their question seems to be one of surprise that someone who loved their Lord should weep on that great day.

When Mary appears, they do have a word of sympathy for her. But they were in the tomb before she came, and they would have been there even if she had never come. As the cherubim in the tabernacle hung over the ark and mercy seat, one on either side, so now in the tomb the angels hang over the place where the body of Jesus had lain, one at the head and the other at the feet.

The women's confusion turned to fear when two men in shining clothes suddenly appeared, standing beside them. Matthew mentions an angel rolling the stone away and sitting on it in view of the guards at the grave (Matt. 28:2-4). Mark speaks of the women seeing in the grave a young man sitting, clothed in a long white garment (Mark 16:5). John speaks of Mary Magdalene seeing two angels in white sitting inside the tomb (John 20:11-12). All four of these must have been at different times, yet not far apart. It is good to see this abundant angelic testimony to the fact of the resurrection of Christ.

She looks again into that tomb, which she had known to be empty just before. Now she sees two angels in white sitting, one at the head and the other at the feet where the body of Jesus had lain. She feels and shows no alarm like the women described elsewhere. In ordinary circumstances, what surprise and fear such a sight must have caused her! Our evangelist does not attribute any such emotion to her in the smallest degree. Her heart was so taken up with the loss of Jesus, who had been taken from her, that the presence of all the angels, I may say, would have left her comparatively unmoved.

Absorbed with the thought of Christ, she expresses no surprise at seeing these angelic beings. She does not say to them what she had said to the disciples, "They have taken away the Lord." She says, "They have taken away my Lord." Whatever others may think of Jesus, Mary can say with all the confidence of love, "He is mine."

For her, without Jesus, the whole world was nothing but an empty tomb; her heart was emptier still. She stays there at the tomb, where the Lord she loved had been. Like Rachel in the Bible, she could not be comforted, because He was no more. She stoops down into the tomb cut in the rock and sees two angels. They ask her, "Why are you weeping?" God allows the full expression of this strong affection.

Absorbed with the thought of Christ, she expresses no surprise at seeing these angelic beings. To the disciples she had said, "They have taken away the Lord." Now she says, "They have taken away my Lord." Whatever others may think of Jesus, Mary can say with all the confidence of love, "He is mine."

It was not the linen cloths she saw, the wrappings of death, but angels in white. They were heavenly messengers in garments of victory, now holding the territory of death that the Lord had conquered and taken. Their question seems to be one of surprise that someone who loved their Lord should weep on that great day... She might as well have said, "How could anyone ask me why I weep? Could I do anything else but weep, having lost my Lord?" She had no home where He was not. Even angels from heaven had no attraction for her.

It is a striking instance of ignorant yet genuine affection. She might have known His glorious resurrection. She ought to have remembered His words: "After three days I will rise again." Her faith and understanding were lacking. But her heart stayed true to the One she loved and treasured. Contrast her with Peter and John — does she not stand far above them? They can return home, satisfied that Jesus' body was not in the tomb, though they did not know where He was. This was not enough for Mary.

The sorrow of love for Jesus mourns His absence. It feels any wrong done to Him. This is far different from the sorrow of the world that works death. Through the grace of Jesus it soon passes into life and peace. Mary's sorrow was not fruitless, nor was it long... She had not yet read the signs of the grave correctly... The Lord was her Lord; she loved Him greatly, but as she saw it, men had taken Him and laid Him where she did not know. A soul may love the Lord and still be in the dark about His risen glory.

She wept because she could not find the dead body of her Lord. Your understanding might be quick to rebuke her tears. But there is something more precious to Christ than understanding: a heart that loves Him. The tears told Him of one who loved Him on earth. She missed Him now that He was dead, or now that she did not know where to find Him... Not that I would undervalue understanding. Only the knowledge of Christ risen could have dried Mary's tears. But do our hearts and consciences keep pace with what we know?

Suppose you and I saw two angels, what do you think we would do? Be honest. I think I would take a good long look at them. And I would probably think I was a very favoured person to see angels... But look at this woman. Angels had not the faintest attraction for Mary. She was not controlled by them, nor held by them. What does she do? She turns her back on them... You may tell me she was blind. Well, sometimes love is blinded by its very tears. But anyway, though her love was blind, mark, friends, the love was there.

All she desired was in front of her eyes. Yet she was so taken up with her own sorrow and her own thoughts that she did not recognise her Lord. It was not, say, as with the two disciples on the road to Emmaus, whose eyes were kept from seeing. At that moment she thought of Jesus only as buried and carried away from the tomb. So she was too absorbed with her own feelings to think of anything else.

The same thing happened when He met the two disciples going to Emmaus that afternoon. It happened again with the rest of the disciples in the upper room that evening. It was the same Jesus, but with a difference. He now wore a risen body — risen, though not yet glorified. So they did not identify Him at once. She mistook Him for the gardener. He was the Great Shepherd risen from the dead. He knew well that here was one of His sheep, wholly devoted to Him. She sought Himself alone, and wept because she did not know where to find Him.

Grace would now step in. She saw Jesus standing there and did not know that it was Jesus. How often it may be like this for our dull hearts! But He never acts below His name, and He speaks so that we may know Him. "Jesus says to her, Woman, why are you weeping? Whom do you seek?" This last was a leading question. Until a soul knows Him, however, there is still darkness, though there may be love.

In her sadness Mary turns away from angels. Her sorrow and her devoted heart had brought the Lord near, though she did not know Him. She had known Him as a man here on earth, but she was not ready to know Him risen. The earthly relationship was all that she understood.

She may lack understanding, but her love for Christ is an absorbing love that thinks only of Christ. She can find no rest and no home in a world where He is absent... But note that in this outside place she finds Christ, and Christ leads her into new and heavenly relationships. Her love to Christ detaches her from this world, and His company leads her into another world.

How often we have been in similar circumstances. In the middle of great disappointments or griefs, the Lord has drawn near to our souls, and we did not recognise Him. Instead of welcoming Him, we were more like the disciples who saw Jesus walking on the sea and thought they had seen a ghost, and cried out in fear.

She turned back, and there stood the risen Lord before her. She did not recognise Him at first. Perhaps the dim early morning light, and her eyes blinded by tears, may explain it. She supposed Him to be the gardener.

Mary turns away from the angels in her sadness. Her sorrow and her devoted heart had brought the Lord near, though she did not know Him. She had known Him during His life on earth, but she was not prepared to know Him risen. The earthly relationship was all that she understood… In her heartbroken grief, she turns away even from Him!

It is not just a work we have to present, but a Person… When the Lord speaks to Mary He does not say, "What are you seeking?" Angels may ask, "Woman, why are you weeping?" But He says, "Whom are you seeking?" He has awakened in her soul affections that only He Himself can satisfy… Peter and John, after seeing the tomb, might go away home, but without Jesus Mary was homeless. Nothing could satisfy her but Himself.

She supposes Him to be the gardener — and what use is a gardener to her? He works on beautiful things that have neither sorrows nor souls. She has both. The things he tends grow and give off their sweetness for a day, then die and are forgotten. She is full of bitterness and cannot forget. She is not looking for flowers, but for "Him," the One who can heal the broken-hearted, who is Himself called the "Man of Sorrows"… The gardener may work among the graves. He may try to cover the bare ugliness of death with the beauty of nature. But a grave strewn with flowers is still a grave. The flowers fade, while the sorrow lives on… She does not want a gardener to decorate a grave; she wants her Lord to heal and satisfy her soul. And Mary's want is yours.

Many have noticed how completely Mary was taken up with her object. It never crossed her mind that anyone might not know whom she was seeking. Blessed absorption! There was no one else in all the world for her heart, so there was no need to say who He was. Notice too that there are no impossibilities to love. She was a weak woman, and yet she says, "and I will take him away"! I wish we all knew more of this unconquerable affection. It binds the soul to Jesus with ties that cannot be broken. It makes the soul willing, and even glad, to carry any burden He gives.

The sorrow of love for Jesus, which grieves over His absence, is very different from the sorrow of the world that produces death. It soon passes into life and peace through the grace of Jesus… Grace would now step in… How often the same may happen to our dull hearts! But He never acts beneath His name, and He speaks so that we may know Him. "Jesus said to her, 'Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?'" This last was a leading question. Until a person knows Him, there is still darkness, even though there may be love… The Lord valued her staying at the tomb in sorrow, even though it was only an empty tomb.

One word dispels all the difficulty and doubt, the expression, not of our love to Him, but of His love to us. "Jesus says to her, Mary." The work was done, the great discovery made. He had died, He was now risen, and He appeared first to Mary of Magdala. She who had sown in tears reaps now in joy.

"Mary" falls upon her ear. That is all... He had said before, "He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out... and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice" (John 10:3-4). Do you and I know what it means when the Lord calls us by name like this?... Why does the Holy Spirit tell us she turned herself? We saw just now that when she saw angels she turned her back on them. Now she sees a man, and she turns her back on him. It was Christ she was looking for, but at that moment she had not found Him. But one word reveals everything to her: "Mary." She had heard that blessed voice before. It was the day He set her free from the sevenfold power of the devil.

She had been completely under the power of the devil, for the Lord had cast seven demons out of her. She had been greatly blessed, but her heart had been won to the Blesser. So at the empty tomb, when the disciples went away to "their own home," Mary stood outside the tomb weeping. Blessings were not enough for Mary; she could find no rest in this world without Christ. With Him she was happy, without Him she was desolate.

But one word from His lips changes everything, "Mary." He calls His own sheep by name, and she knows His voice. Turning again, she says, "Rabboni." That is more than "Rabbi" (teacher). It means "my great Teacher." The wonder of the miracle of His resurrection does not even occur to her. All she thinks of is the One she loves, now there before her eyes.

Mary had rightly understood Him in the place He held among Israel. But that is not His place now. He would take a new place, and there He would join His own to Himself. This reminds us of what the Lord said in John 12: "Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone." Mary knew Him as "Rabboni" (her Lord or Teacher). He was indeed that. But now He would bring her into a place where she knew Him in a deeper and closer way, joined to Himself in entirely new conditions.

There was only one Mary Magdalene on earth, and her heart alone knew its own bitterness. There is only one YOU, and your sorrow is your own. Jesus revealed Himself to that one Mary. He knew every pang of her heart, and He did it in a way that let her answer and call Him MY MASTER... I have not heard about Him only, I HAVE HEARD HIM. I know Him. He has come into the secret chambers of my soul, where a great sorrow had taken hold. I have welcomed Him. I am His, He has called me by name, and He is mine — RABBONI.

Our Lord's words to Mary Magdalene are not quite given by "Touch me not." A better rendering is, "Do not handle." He tells her not to give in to her impulse to take hold of His person… here the action is continuous. That gives the force: "Do not persist in clinging to me."

She stands for the feelings of the godly Jewish remnant. She would cling to her risen Lord, thinking that now He has come back — no longer in humiliation but in resurrection glory — He will take His place on earth as the rightful Heir of all things. But Mary and the remnant must learn this: before the glories of the kingdom, God has still greater glories for Christ, and far deeper blessings for His people.

In the coming day of the Lord's presence, faith will have an Object it can see and touch, so to speak. It will be like the faith of the Jewish women who, when they saw the Lord after His resurrection, "took hold of his feet and worshiped him" (Matt. 28:9). But on that same day the risen Christ trained Mary Magdalene in a higher kind of faith — a faith that needs nothing visible or touchable in its object, and reaches right through to the Unseen Presence on high… She was surely to learn from His words that earthly relationships with the Messiah were now on hold, and heavenly ones were about to begin between the ascended Saviour and His own.

The Lord can speak of His disciples as "My brothers". He had never called His disciples His brothers before. But through His death He has sanctified them, and He is not ashamed to call them brothers (Hebrews 2:11). Just as the bride in the Song of Songs can say, "I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine", so Mary, in the love of her heart, says, "My Lord", and Jesus, in the greatness of His love, can answer by calling His own "My brothers".

Now Christ stands in two relationships with God, His Father. He is a perfect man before His God; He is a Son with His Father. We are to share both these relationships. He announced this to His disciples before He went back to heaven. His own words open up its full extent: "I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God."

And is there not real beauty in this, that "Father" comes before "God"?… The tenderer relation comes first. Still, as more than one writer has noted, it is not "our Father," nor "our God." That could not be. Whatever the grace, nothing ever closes the distance between the Creator and the creature — not in that sense… But His Sonship is unique, even though these words also stress that His God and Father is also ours.

He is not ashamed to call us brothers. But when we remember who He is, and what He has done for our eternal blessing, it would be quite out of place to call Him "our elder Brother," as so many Christians do. Let us keep to the wording of Scripture. Let us show the deep reverence that fits us, while we rejoice in the wonderful relationship He calls us to enjoy.

He did not leave us until He had finished a work in the world. On the ground of that work He has brought us into the very same relationship with God that He Himself, as man, stands in… From now on His Father is our Father, His God our God, His home our home.

Before Mary could carry such a message she had to know its truth herself. She had to learn that from now on she could never again know Christ as she had known Him on earth, in flesh and blood... Whether she grasped much or little, having received her commission she hurried to carry it out. It was a privilege indeed to be the bearer of such news, and she showed how she valued it by her exact and speedy obedience to the command she had received.

"Go to My brethren." He is not ashamed to call the disciples His brethren... Now He has finished His atoning work, and He openly owns this blessed fruit of it. Faith receives more than forgiveness of sins through His shed blood. Believers also stand in the closest relationship to Himself, the risen Man and Son of God. They are His brethren... And they learn that they are now related to Christ in His new place. So they enter into His own blessed and everlasting relationship with His Father and God. "And say to them, I am ascending to My Father and your Father, to My God and your God."

Despite her ignorance — despite the unbelief inside that ignorance — Mary was the one who was to be the first witness of His resurrection. She was the first evangelist of the new order of things His resurrection sets up... Now again a woman's heart, more devoted than His foremost disciples, is to carry the message that has gladdened it to these men, in the energy of its new-born gladness. She becomes, as it were, the apostle to the apostles! How it tells us of the way the heart becomes the leader of the mind into the truth of God.

The Lord delights to take up the weak and the lowly to carry out the highest service. How often a great work of God has begun with what is small and weak in the eyes of man. Christianity comes in with a Baby in the manger. The Kingdom begins with a grain of mustard seed, and the new, heavenly relationships are made known through a weeping woman.

When Mary came to the disciples she said, "she had seen the Lord, and that He had spoken these things to her" (John 20:18). That is the kind of ministry to which you refer.

Charged with that message, Mary, her sorrow turned into joy, went to deliver it. First saying, "I have seen the Lord" (John 20:18), as we should rightly read, she passed on what the Lord had said to her by the tomb. What reception she met with, John does not tell us. We learn elsewhere (Mark 16:11) that they did not believe that she had seen the Lord alive from the dead.