May 1, 2016 John 20:1-18
John’s storytelling may have reached its peak in the previous chapter: the unjust sentence, the callous gambling soldiers, the bickering over the wording on the cross – so many details show how those in power were indifferent to what was happening. The pathos of a mother watching her Son die is in contrast to the cold-hearted religious leaders eager to hasten death. Loyal followers abandon secrecy and provide a tomb as one last service to Jesus. Reading such a story for the first time we would ask, “What could possibly happen to redeem this terrible tragedy?”
Trying to read a passage in the Bible as if for the first time is always helpful. That approach is even more important when the passage is very familiar or when the passage tells a very familiar story mentioned elsewhere in Scripture. Our acquaintance with the story can overshadow the text. We can miss John’s unique contributions to the story, or we might assume things that are not there. “Hearsay impressions,” which may or may not be Biblical, can affect our understanding. Careful observation of the text in front of us will help avoid that confusion and enable more informed interpretation and accurate application.
That’s where our group started with John’s description of the events surrounding the resurrection. What does the passage say? What are the facts and details John provides for us?
The facts are generally familiar. Mary Magdalene, one of the few whose loyalty extended to the scene of the crucifixion (John 19:25b), was the first to the tomb. John points out that it was dark. Our group discussed the possibility of Mary coming late Saturday night, after the Sabbath ended at sunset, when it would be, by Jewish reckoning, the beginning of the next day. Although we didn’t notice during our discussion, John also includes the word “yet” (eti, ἔτι, “still” or “while”), which seems to rule out that idea. This is a great illustration of one of the benefits of rigorous inductive study: Be Fearless! Ask any question and see if we can answer it from the text. How often is Bible study limited because we may say or ask something awkward or inappropriate? That limitation means we seldom learn anything new from the text. An interesting question led us further into the text and then back to what was expected, an early morning visit. But that answer came from the text and not from our assumptions.
Another question came up: What was Mary expecting to accomplish in the dark? Mark tells us that she was in the company of other women, and they had spices to complete the burial process (Mark 16:1-8). Perhaps John was thinking of her as the leader of the women coming to the tomb. Perhaps Mary went ahead in the pre-dawn darkness before the others. Someone in our group suggested that we sometimes want some private time alone at the grave of a loved one. In any case, Mary did not find what she expected. The stone covering the opening of the tomb had been moved. Unlike the disciples a short time later, Mary did not look in. If it was “still dark,” the inside of a hollowed out opening in stone would be even less visible. She assumed from the dislocated stone that grave robbers had been at work (v. 2b), the unidentified “they” which probably implied the Jewish leaders.
Mary ran “to Peter” and “to the other disciple whom Jesus loved” (presumably the apostle and author, John himself; v. 2a). The text seems to suggest that they were at two different locations (instead of “to Peter and John” at the same place). Nothing is said of the other disciples. After telling Peter and John and seeing them sprint together to the tomb, maybe Mary decided to follow. Peter and John were probably the leaders among the disciples, so she went to them first.
When they arrived, John hesitated at the entrance (v. 4), possibly recalling a lifetime of Jewish teaching about becoming unclean. That didn’t stop Peter (consistent with his impulsive actions throughout the Gospel). John saw the linen wrappings, the grave clothes that had been wrapped around the body for a quick burial before Sabbath started (John 19:42), but the face cloth is not mentioned. Only when Peter actually entered the tomb, followed by John, did they see the face cloth, “rolled up in a place by itself” (v. 7). Immediately the theory of grave robbers (Jewish leaders or any others) vanishes. Taking the body would not involve removing the shroud and certainly not neatly folding or rolling the piece that had covered the head of the corpse. The linens, and specifically the cloth for covering the face or head, were the convincing evidence mentioned in verse 8 that begins with “So” or “Therefore” (oun, οὖν). One suggestion has been made that the “rolled” or “folded” cloth apart from the rest of the shroud was the remaining wrapping from around Jesus’ head. It remained just where it had been, a little separated from the cloth that went to His shoulders. When the body was no longer there, all the linen, including the face-cloth, simply collapsed in place.
The arrangement of the empty grave clothes in an empty tomb was convincing, at least for John. “The other disciple…saw and believed” (v. 8; both verbs are singular). Nothing is said about Peter’s response. Maybe because John remembered that exact moment in his own heart and mind when that experience of belief took place. He couldn’t read Peter’s reaction, but he knew what had happened to himself. From the very beginning, the evidence of the empty tomb and the resurrection of Jesus has been central to belief.
What exactly did John believe? He reports that they (John and Peter both) did not yet understand the testimony of Scripture and the teaching of Jesus about rising again from the dead (v. 9). John (and Peter at some point) believed or trusted (both translations of pisteuo, πίστευω) even before they fully understood what was going on. They were confident that the body had not been taken by grave robbers, and they didn’t understand the idea of a resurrection. They knew that something supernatural had happened, leaving undisturbed grave clothes. They simply trusted God in a very confusing situation.
That trust may be what resulted in their response. Some in our group (I for one) found Verse 9 incomprehensible: “So (or ‘Therefore’) the disciples went away again to their own homes.” Unlike Mary they didn’t run to tell others. They didn’t hunt for the body. They didn’t go to the Jewish authorities. They went home because they trusted despite their lack of complete understanding.
By this time Mary was also back at the tomb (V. 11). We wondered if Peter and John noticed her, or did they just leave her there weeping? Now it must have been light enough for Mary to look into the tomb. What she saw was quite different from the evidence that convinced Peter and John. Either the two angels (v. 12) were not there earlier, or they were not visible to the two male disciples. The objective, tangible evidence of the empty grave clothes and their unique arrangement was compelling for John. The angels were not part of their witness.
Mary’s attention was first drawn to the angels when she looked into the tomb. Not surprisingly, when greeted by two supernatural beings, no mention is made of Mary noticing some pieces of linen. The angels were “sitting, one at the head and one at the feet, where the body of Jesus had been lying” (v. 12). Our group wondered: Why did John include the details about the posture and the location of the angels? One person commented that the angels were sitting because there was no crisis. They were not there to do anything. The most important event had already happened, and the angels were there as witnesses to meet Mary Magdalene. Another suggestion was that they were at the head and feet locations so Mary could finally see into the tomb more clearly. We were assuming that the angels’ glorious appearance provided illumination in the dim interior of the tomb.
The angels spoke first (v. 13), and Mary seemed unfazed. Her attention was so fixed on her concern for the missing body of her beloved Lord that even being addressed by an angel couldn’t disturb her more. She repeated the almost same words that she had said to the disciples (v. 13b, 2b). Her concern seemed to be finding a location so she could continue her grief and her preparation of the body (v. 15b).
She didn’t seem to notice the linen pieces that meant so much to John and to Peter. More importantly she saw the risen Jesus, though not recognizing Him at first (v. 14). An observation from the group noted that her first reference to Him was “the Lord” (v. 2), then later to the angels she called Him “my Lord” (v. 13). When she finally recognized Him, it was “Rabboni” that John translates as “Teacher” (v. 16). Her concern grew in her expression of her devotion and personal involvement, culminating in a very personal term which could be translated “my dear Rabbi” or “my beloved teacher.”[1]
The response of Jesus to her obviously emotional response seems curious. Imagine you are reading the story for the first time. When you got to this point, you close the book and try to imagine the next thing Jesus would say. What would you expect? Our group had several suggestions: “I’m back!” “I have risen just as I told you I would.” “Why didn’t you have more faith?” “Now you can preach with power about the salvation I have brought.”
He said none of these things. Instead, the first topic Jesus speaks of after the resurrection is His relationship with His Father. He is thinking of His ascension, His return to the Father, just as He had thought of that return shortly before He was arrested (John 13:1a, 3b). As we have seen permeating the entire Gospel according to John, the one topic was foremost on His mind. He was on a mission from His Father. When it was accomplished, He would return to His Father. He anticipated returning to the glory They had shared since before anything else existed (John 17:5).
He gave Mary a message to deliver to the disciples. He disregarded (or perhaps defied) a culture that marginalized women. She was the first to the tomb, the first to meet Him, the first to deliver an explanation (that the disciples had not figured out, v. 9). That message also drew attention to His relationship with His Father: “I ascend to My Father and your Father, and My God and your God’ (v. 17). Why did He phrase the message in that complicated way? Why not “the Father” or just “My Father” or even “our Father”? One suggestion (that I have thought in the past) was that after the resurrection Jesus was drawing attention to the different relationship He had with the Father. He related to the Father in a way that was different now from the way the disciples (still on earth, still in mortal bodies) could relate to God as their Father. That is still a possible understanding, but our discussion changed my mind to what seems a preferable interpretation. (Have I mentioned how much I appreciate this group?) Instead of emphasizing a distinction, a comment from one member suggested the opposite. Jesus was including the disciples in His relationship with His Father, something like “My Father and your Father.” Certainly Jesus as the eternal second Person of the Triune God has a unique, never-to-be-duplicated relationship with God the Father. But His instruction to Mary is to go to “My brethren” thus including them in His family. The disciples (including us in John 17:20) are to experience a unity with the Father and the Son (17:21,23). The Apostle Peter described this as becoming “partakers (sharers, fellowshippers, koinonoi, κοινωνοὶ) of the divine nature” (2 Peter 1:4). We don’t become divine gods (as some cults would suggest). We become so intimate with the eternal Persons of the Godhead that we share in the unimaginable fellowship they continually enjoy for eternity, participating in their “inexpressible joy” (1 Peter 1:8).
That was Jesus’ first message to His followers after the cross and the resurrection. He was returning to His Father. That was the joy set before Him that enabled Him to endure the cross (Hebrews 12:2). And His Father is also our Father, and we can share in that relationship between the Father and the Son (beginning now, ultimately in eternity). That is the joy set before us that enables us to endure whatever circumstances we face.
[1] Gerald L Borchert, The New American Commentary: John 12-21, (Nashville, Tennessee: Broadman & Holman Publishers, 2002), 301.