One of my favourite moments in John’s gospel is the conversation between Mary Magdalene and the Risen Jesus in the garden on that first Easter morning (John 20). Mary doesn’t recognize Jesus as he stands before her. How can she? She knows her Lord has been crucified and buried, but why is the tomb now empty? In a haze of grief, and with her eyes still clouded with tears, she sees a man whom she thinks is the gardener. “If you have carried him away,” she says, “tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.”
Then Jesus speaks one word: “Mary.” And there is instantaneous recognition. “Rabbouni,” Mary says. “Teacher.” How she must have wanted to embrace him. How she must have longed to draw close one more time. But Jesus says to Mary, “Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go and tell my friends, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’”
Two powerful lines stand out for me in this brief encounter. The first is the word “Mary.” For Mary, the hearing of her own name unlocks the identity of Jesus. She cannot recognize his physical form after he has risen from the dead, but as soon as he calls her by name, she knows him. Calling someone by name conveys knowledge, intimacy, relationship.
In the biblical narrative, when important things happen between God and God’s people, God gives a name. Abram was named Abraham, and Sarai became Sarah, when God made a covenant with them and their ancestors (Genesis 17). Jacob was named Israel after wrestling with the Lord (Genesis 32). Simon became Peter when he confessed that Jesus was the Christ, the Son of the Living God (Matthew 16:17-18). Being known and called by name matters.
God calls each one of us by name too. “The Lord says, I have called you by name and you are mine.” (Isaiah 43:1) This is more than mere knowledge. It is an intimacy so deep that the hairs of our heads are all counted (Luke 12:7).
Like Mary Magdalene, we are invited into a living relationship with the Risen Jesus. In his new life, we have life, and we are called to rise into resurrection-living every day. When you hear John’s gospel again this Easter, imagine Jesus calling you by name.
The second set of words that stands out for me is the command of Jesus to Mary: “Go and tell.” Mary Magdalene is sometimes called the “Apostle to the Apostles” because she carried the news of the risen Lord to the others. We wonder how the resurrection would have ever become known without Mary’s witness. When she gets to the other disciples, she exclaims, “I have seen the Lord!” And from that moment, the planting of the gospel in the garden of the world had begun.
Just as we have imagined Jesus calling us by name, so too we hear the call to “go and tell” as directed to us. Like Mary, we are also apostles, those who are sent out to proclaim by word and example the good news of God in Christ. Easter propels out of the empty tomb and into the world, because those who have experienced and been changed by the Risen Jesus cannot help but tell others. We can never go back to the old ways of being. We strive to live, albeit imperfectly, into the fullness of light and life which Jesus has given through his life, death and resurrection, and all because of God’s perfect love for the world.
As we pack away our Lenten resolutions for another year, here is an Easter resolution: “Go and tell.” Be an evangelist, be an apostle, be a fellow gardener. The fourth century bishop and theologian, St. Augustine of Hippo, wrote: “A Christian should be an Alleluia from head to toe,” which is a reminder of how we ought to go and tell: full of joyous praise and enlivened by the greatest news we could share. Christ is Risen. Alleluia! I conclude with this prayer by Rosalind Brown, reminding us that we are called by name and then sent. I wish you a Happy Easter in the garden of the new creation.
Lord Jesus,
sometimes, like Mary,
we mistake you for the gardener of an old way of life:
this Eastertime, invite us to walk with you
in the garden of your new creation.
O gardener of the world,
may the leaves of the tree of life bring healing to the nations.
Like Mary, call us by name
and send us out to be instruments of your peace. Amen.
(Rosalind Brown, Prayers for Living, Durham: Sacristy Press, 2021).
The Risen Jesus calls us to go and tell!
One of my favourite moments in John’s gospel is the conversation between Mary Magdalene and the Risen Jesus in the garden on that first Easter morning (John 20). Mary doesn’t recognize Jesus as he stands before her. How can she? She knows her Lord has been crucified and buried, but why is the tomb now empty? In a haze of grief, and with her eyes still clouded with tears, she sees a man whom she thinks is the gardener. “If you have carried him away,” she says, “tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.”
Then Jesus speaks one word: “Mary.” And there is instantaneous recognition. “Rabbouni,” Mary says. “Teacher.” How she must have wanted to embrace him. How she must have longed to draw close one more time. But Jesus says to Mary, “Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go and tell my friends, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’”
Two powerful lines stand out for me in this brief encounter. The first is the word “Mary.” For Mary, the hearing of her own name unlocks the identity of Jesus. She cannot recognize his physical form after he has risen from the dead, but as soon as he calls her by name, she knows him. Calling someone by name conveys knowledge, intimacy, relationship.
In the biblical narrative, when important things happen between God and God’s people, God gives a name. Abram was named Abraham, and Sarai became Sarah, when God made a covenant with them and their ancestors (Genesis 17). Jacob was named Israel after wrestling with the Lord (Genesis 32). Simon became Peter when he confessed that Jesus was the Christ, the Son of the Living God (Matthew 16:17-18). Being known and called by name matters.
God calls each one of us by name too. “The Lord says, I have called you by name and you are mine.” (Isaiah 43:1) This is more than mere knowledge. It is an intimacy so deep that the hairs of our heads are all counted (Luke 12:7).
Like Mary Magdalene, we are invited into a living relationship with the Risen Jesus. In his new life, we have life, and we are called to rise into resurrection-living every day. When you hear John’s gospel again this Easter, imagine Jesus calling you by name.
The second set of words that stands out for me is the command of Jesus to Mary: “Go and tell.” Mary Magdalene is sometimes called the “Apostle to the Apostles” because she carried the news of the risen Lord to the others. We wonder how the resurrection would have ever become known without Mary’s witness. When she gets to the other disciples, she exclaims, “I have seen the Lord!” And from that moment, the planting of the gospel in the garden of the world had begun.
Just as we have imagined Jesus calling us by name, so too we hear the call to “go and tell” as directed to us. Like Mary, we are also apostles, those who are sent out to proclaim by word and example the good news of God in Christ. Easter propels out of the empty tomb and into the world, because those who have experienced and been changed by the Risen Jesus cannot help but tell others. We can never go back to the old ways of being. We strive to live, albeit imperfectly, into the fullness of light and life which Jesus has given through his life, death and resurrection, and all because of God’s perfect love for the world.
As we pack away our Lenten resolutions for another year, here is an Easter resolution: “Go and tell.” Be an evangelist, be an apostle, be a fellow gardener. The fourth century bishop and theologian, St. Augustine of Hippo, wrote: “A Christian should be an Alleluia from head to toe,” which is a reminder of how we ought to go and tell: full of joyous praise and enlivened by the greatest news we could share. Christ is Risen. Alleluia! I conclude with this prayer by Rosalind Brown, reminding us that we are called by name and then sent. I wish you a Happy Easter in the garden of the new creation.
Lord Jesus,
sometimes, like Mary,
we mistake you for the gardener of an old way of life:
this Eastertime, invite us to walk with you
in the garden of your new creation.
O gardener of the world,
may the leaves of the tree of life bring healing to the nations.
Like Mary, call us by name
and send us out to be instruments of your peace. Amen.
(Rosalind Brown, Prayers for Living, Durham: Sacristy Press, 2021).
Author
Bishop Kevin Robertson
The Rt. Rev. Kevin Robertson is a suffragan bishop in the Diocese of Toronto.
Keep on reading
Jesus statue caged in protest
All creatures great and small
Let us make room
Moving beyond fear to community
Handmade items go a long way to combat ‘sea blindness’
Cherished guest house to be renovated