If you could pick one word to describe our world, what would it be? Many options come to mind—purpose, identity, politics, tribe. You could make a case for any of these as defining our present moment or how we relate to the world. But none fully capture it. As I reflected on this passage for Holy Week, I saw a common theme: the disciples’ rush, Mary’s urgency. They share a single pursuit, something that sums up our lives and our culture today: searching. This word lies at the heart of how we spend our lives and defines much of who we are: we are searching.

We live in a culture shaped by searching; we collectively search for a tribe to belong to, a purpose to live under, a cause to fight for. Then, if we are not collectively searching, we are individuals searching for our identity, purpose, and foundation in a confusing world. Now, searching describes the big things in life that we struggle with; yet, how amazingly does it also describe what we spend half of our day doing – searching! Think about a normal day, and how we interact with the world around us and make decisions about what we are going to do. Our culture is searching, and we are searching in it. There are 8.5 billion searches a day on Google, of which you will perform an average of at least 4 a day. We are a people searching, and the truth is that we are not even using search engines for the big questions of life; we use them for everything: 41% of searches on Google are about local things – news, food, places to go, so when we are all searching for something, it’s true!

Life is a search, and whether we realise it or not, we are spending every minute looking for something that holds in a world where everything feels uncertain. We search in relationships, in success, and in our hobbies, hoping that somewhere along the way we might find what we have been missing, even though we are never quite sure what we are looking for. Then, even in those moments when we think the search might have ended, it never quite satisfies, and we are back on the road, looking for something we are not quite sure about. Yet often, even when we find something, it never quite satisfies. Then, perhaps on the road at some point we can start to understand the words of CS Lewis, who admitted on his own searching: “If I find myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.” It is right there that Easter morning meets us – on the road of our search.

Easter does not meet us with spectacle, but in the silence after Holy Saturday and the grief of Good Friday. In this quiet, we meet three people who have almost given up, feeling lost in their search. Yet, it is here that the risen Jesus meets them, transforming their loss. When Mary encounters Jesus, her search ends—he is alive. The question this passage poses is clear: Will you keep searching, or will you trust and recognize the one who calls you by name?

1. Vindication in a Whisper (20:1–10)

One of the things I always love about Easter is how it stands in stark contrast to the ways of the world. There is nothing about the events of the day and how they are recorded. That is the beauty of the four accounts of Jesus’ life and death; they record events in a way that does not seem to help make the story believable – Easter morning is no different. For what is the most significant day in human history, and the pinnacle of God’s redemptive work in the world, it begins like any other – in silence.

1.1The silence that speaks

This day begins like any other, in silence – and that is the point, because it is from the silence that the power of God begins to speak. It is from the silence we begin to learn that God has taken what the world meant for evil upon the Cross, and he speaks in a way that still confronts the heart of the world’s notions of power and success. Think about what is natural for any of us – that when we achieve something, we want to tell people, we want the world to know! Yet, here, as the Triumph of the Cross begins to tell of itself, it speaks from silence, because that is how the Kingdom of God will unfold, in a way the world does not notice, and in a way that leaves the visible. Easter Sunday event stands in contrast to Palm Sunday; the cries of Hosanna from the joyful crowd have long fallen silent as the whispers of conspiracy from the pharisee’s and religious leaders have become all the more real: the crowds have departed, the disciples have fled, the guards have seized him, Jesu has been beaten, mocked and found guilty by a sham trial; in the week of all weeks the pain and agony of Psalms like 31 (that we looked at least week), have become real for Jesus, and it is now from the silence that the majesty of Glory begins to unfold, and the beauty of Christ’s agony becomes really. It is silence that carries the weight here, as we see the Kingdom unfolding in a way that confronts the world, as we join a weary Mary on the road to mourn one last time.

1.2 The empty tomb — but no understanding

Think about it for a moment; Mary gets up in the small hours of this Sunday morning with no expectation; she is going to mourn, to weep, to wonder what might have been if events had unfolded differently. Her teacher and friend has been put to death by the state, and her world has fallen apart. She has no thoughts about the future, no sense of what is about to happen as she walks the road to the place where Christ has been laid. The darkness about to break sums up where Mary is perfectly. As she arrives at the Tomb, the silence begins to speak as she notices that the Stone covering the entrance to the tomb is no longer there. Something is up, yet Mary’s default is to assume an extension of the chaos of the week before; she assumes the powers have taken Jesus as she runs to Simon Peter and John to tell them Jesus has been taken, and they have no idea where.

Peter and John, like Mary, have no idea what is happening, so they do the most natural thing: they run back to where the news came from to see it for themselves. It is a picture of the urgency of the moment, and also the confusion and uncertainty. They arrived under the weight of uncertainty, out of breath, and began to process the scene. What their eyes saw was that the Chaos they had expected was not so: the silence spoke of order, intentionality, and time. Something deliberate has happened, and the tomb’s emptiness is not what it seems, but those witnessing it are far from the meaning. Thus, the tension of the silence speaking is real – something has changed, but perception has not.

1.3 Seeing but not yet seeing

The main idea is that Mary, Peter, and John each encounter the same evidence, but respond differently—reflecting how people in our city also respond differently to the compelling evidence of God’s love. The Easter story illustrates that faith is not just observation or church attendance, but a revelation from God. It prompts us to ask ourselves whether we truly see Christ as the risen King, or whether, like Mary, Peter, and John, we encounter the truth but do not fully recognise it.

2. Searching Steps (20:10–15)

Have you ever found yourself in a season of searching? Looking for something or perhaps someone, or if we are going to be really honest, we are not even sure what it is we are meant to be looking for. Yet, we look, and we search, and we search, and we look. When we step into the unknown, we all react differently. Why? Because each of us is wired differently, we see the world in different ways, process information differently, and pick up on different clues around us. We have already seen that a different approach is taken in this passage, as three people approach the tomb of Jesus and are confounded by the mystery of Easter Morning. Mary first, she seemed to act with dismay; then Peter, who has a sense of urgency but seems to lack perception; and finally, the one whom Jesus loved, John, seems to have the best perception as he enters into the tomb and believes – even if he is not sure what he believes in. We all search and handle new information differently. Yet, what is beautiful is that as the silent mystery of the empty tomb lingers, it is the persistence of the one whom the world would not look to that begins to pay off. Peter and John have seen enough and returned along the road on which they can; it is Mary who lingers in her searching and persistence. Mary shows a deeper faith and a quieter longing than the others.

2.1 Mary stays — the persistence of searching

Peter and John rushed to the tomb, processed the scene, and left back upon the Road on which they walked. They have seen enough, and although one of them has begun to see and believe, neither of their eyes has been truly opened. Yet, as they depart, Mary remains – perhaps the same grief that brought her out early in the morning is the same feeling that keeps her there even as others depart. She is like the person who lingers a little longer on a challenge, when others have given up in frustration – even though there is no reason to. Peter and John have left, and it seems that amid all the confusion, the depth of Mary’s pain has become more real. Why? I think it is simply because her love of Jesus was deeper; in all the time she had spent with him, she had grown to a deeper understanding of who he was and what he meant, even if she had not fully seen. Thus, the despair she has felt since Good Friday, when she watched her friend and teacher crucified, has only deepened as not only is he dead, but now even his body is gone. Mary is searching and determined to figure out what has happened, even when she does not understand.

2.2 The question beneath the question (11-13)

Mary is searching, but she is not left alone in her search, as God steps in to help her along the road of faith to the truth she is seeking, even if she has not realised it. To the searching of Mary, God speaks, because our God will never leave us in aimless wandering. He is speaking and directing as we search in this world for meaning and purpose. The challenge is, are we listening to him? You see, we have all been where Mary is, searching and looking – and we often think we are alone, not because God is not with us, but because we would rather trust in our own strength. Mary is left in her grief no more as two messengers of the Lord meet her and help her begin to see by what they ask her:

“Women, Why are you crying?”

It is a question that gets right to the heart of the situation and of what Mary is processing, and that hints at the beauty of something unfolding, something for which tears are not appropriate. Mary, seemingly unstartled by the sudden appearance of two messengers questioning her tears, responds to explain them – “They have taken my Lord away, and I don’t know where they have put him!” This is why I am crying, can’t you see says Mary. There is no reason for anything but tears. Mary has sensed all along that something is unfolding, but she is thinking with the wrong sense – she presumes that the powers that brought him to the Cross in sin are now acting to finish what they have done. Something is happening, and it is not what Mary thinks. Mary has been with Jesus for years, to the point where her heart is heaven in the loss of Good Friday and the pain of Holy Saturday, but he has not yet learned to see from the heart the way that the Kingdom of God will unfold, its upside-down and inside-out nature. Thus, God does not even give Mary the time to explain her logic, nor does he waste time trying to explain how the kingdom is beginning to unfold form the silence of the tomb; as one question’s answer is interrupted/answered by another question spoken from behind that asks the same, and more: “ Women, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?”

Mary has been searching, and now her eyes behold the unbeholdable, but sure is the power of the world and how it has shaped her, and such is the depth of her misunderstanding that even though her eyes were seeing what she was searching for, her heart cannot yet process it. Thus, the questions asked of her by the angels and now Jesus, who she thinks is in the garden, go deeper than just the unfolding events: they get to the heart of the matter. The question Jesus asks gets right to Mary’s heart because it is from there she will understand, and begin to see! As Jesus speaks in such a way to help begin the reshaping of Mary’s desire, longing, and direction by the power of the Cross. Jesus questions expose the blindness of the heart, not the reality of the situation. Mary’s faith has kept her there searching, even as the other disciples have departed – yet, they all have no real excuse for not being there, Jesus has taught them and been clear about what was to unfold. Now, she stands broken-hearted and sees the one she has been longing for in a state that his mind cannot fathom. Mary represents so clearly each of us as we come before God and walk in this world looking to the wrong thigns for identity, purpose, and belonging – we all end up like Mary, searching in the wrong things and even as Christ stands before us we end up looking through him or casting him in another role – like a gardening – because we cannot humble ourselves to recognise him for who he is.

2.3 Looking: But Not Recognising

You can feel the tension as John writes; Mary, weary and weeping, searching and seeking, now looks upon the one she longs for. Yet, he is in a state that she cannot fathom and has no expectation of – resurrected! Mary sees Jesus, but her mind cannot process it; so the logic of the world takes over, and she assigns him a role that makes sense of the moment. They are in a garden, it’s early in the morning on the first day of the week, so the only person who would be here at such a moment would be a gardener. Now, the answer is present, but unrecognised: it is no longer about absence, not the problem is perception. Mary can see, but she does not expect to see Christ for who he is – she needs help.

Are we any better today? As we ponder where God is amid all the events of our lives, we somehow allow our eyes to look past him as we search for meaning, identity, purpose, and power in our careers and in anything other than God. We miss what has been right in front of us all along. How often do we see this in our world today with new survey’s about the depressing state of the world; as people wrestle with deep questions about life in the simple areas of our culture: Politics, identity, and meaning. We are looking for only that which Christ can give us in individuality, gender, drugs, sex, and all the other idols of our age; and right there in the middle of our searching, Jesus is standing: speaking, calling, reaching and desiring to make himself known – the question is, are we willing to recognise it.

3. Called by Name, Sent with Purpose (20:16–18)

What a journey it has been for Mary and the disciples, as they have been called by Jesus, walked with him, and lived through the week of all weeks; now it has come to this. Everything has been building to this moment, and everything in this passage has brought us to this point, this moment where the silence speaks no more – even if none of the people who should see has yet seen it; and once again by the Grace of God their hearts will begin to fathom all that has happened! The silence has whispered in the empty tomb that something has happened; even as the disciples have ran back; Mary has lingered to try and figure our what has happened and perhaps began to ponder something more with the apperance of all theese messengers as she has looked for Jesus: looked into the tomb, looking upon angels, and now even turned and cast her eyes upon Jesus himself. Yet, she still does not understand what she is seeing, and that is the weight of the moment and its beauty: John lets us feel just how far beyond human expectation the resurrection really is! No one is standing waiting for this to occur; no one is standing with balloons to congratulate Jesus; the triumph is unexpected and silent to the world around it, so silent that even when it is obvious before Mary, her mind cannot begin to comprehend, and her heart dares not trust again. Thus, it is only then, in the middle by the timing of God, that the Grace of God once again acts to do what only a risen saviour can do – he brings hope by new life! Not simply by confirmation or information: by making himself known.

3.1 The turning point — “Mary” (20:16)

How does revelation come? Do angels appear in the sky and sing of what has been done? The simple is powerful here as John records the turning point of the whole passage, and the moment that reveals the undoing of death. After all the pain, suffering, confusion, sorrow, and searching, everything changes with a spoken word. There is no long explaination, no teaching moment; there is only Grace as Jesus calls her: “Mary” in only a way that he could: Mary’s ears begin to see as the shock of what that spoken name means begins to take root in her heart and help her eyes to process what they have been beholding, as with one word the darkness lifts and the morning light becomes real. In one word, the entire narrative of the week of all weeks has begun to change, and the undoing of death has been revealed – Christ has risen, and the searching is over because recognition has come!

It is the beauty of Grace here: there is no argument, no moment of teaching, no shame – there is only Grace and hope because of the resurrection! Jesus speaks in a way that is personal, tender, and direct into her grief: in a way that allows her to place her yoke upon him, and make her burden light. All by speaking her name, and allowing her heart to receive what her eyes could not perceive. When Jesus speaks, truth is revealed, and he has spoken so that Mary could be the first witness to the resurrection – so she could know the beauty of truth. Pilot asked before Christ went to the Cross: “What is truth?” Now, after hearing her name spoken, Mary can tell him because her eyes have been opened by the Grace of God. The voice she thought had fallen silent now roars in simplicity at the empty tomb, dispelling death and confusion and moving grief to joy, because the searching of Mary’s heart has come to rest in the one she has been longing for. Can you feel the fullness of her Joy as she responds: “Rabboni!” It is the cry not simply of understanding, but encounter – the resurrection is no longer only something that has happened; it is personal, deeper, and more real – it is someone she has loved and who has loved her; and now not only makes her seen, but makes her feel seen.

3.2 Known and encountered (20:16–17)

Now things dive deeper, because this is not just about Mary or the first disciples; it is for all of us – to show us the kind of Saviour Jesus is. He is not distant, he is the risen saviour who calls us by name; he is the risen Christ who knows his people, who draws near to them, and then in love makes himself known to them. Mary was not lacking any information to figure out what had happened: She had seen the empty tomb, spoken to the angels, and stood in the very presence of Jesus himself! Yet none of that was enough for recognition. Why? Because, the truth of Easter is not just facts – It is in the joy of the risen Lord making himself known.

The same Jesus still works in the same way today – by revelation. You see, it’s possible for us to know the shape of the story, the outline of the gospel, the language of the church, and yet still not really know Christ. Have our hearts been opened? We hear the Scripture read, we sit among his people, we perform the religious rituals, and go through the motions of our liturgy; we might even come to his table: yet still not recognise the one who stands before us in the gospel. We can know about him and still not know him; we can see and yet not perceive; we can search, and find and remain as lost as the moment we began. Why? because the deepest need of the human heart is to be brought by grace to the truth, and that truth is a living person: Jesus Christ.

That is why one word matters so much: by speaking, Jesus steps into her confusion as the Lord who knows her name and claims her heart. That is the wonder of the gospel and the joy of this easter morning – the risen Christ still meets people personally. Through his Word, by his Spirit, he still speaks and calls us into the wonder of his kingdom The question for us: are we listening?

3.3 From clinging to calling (20:17–18)

Yet, it’s not just about seeing him, is it? No, Jesus does allow Mary to remain where she is – the work must now go on! Jesus not only brings Mary to recognition, but he also brings her into mission – his mission. Mary wants to hold on to him; she does not want this moment to end! Yet Jesus will not let Mary stay there, because resurrection joy is not static; new life is life-giving and forward-moving! The life Mary has received, the faith that she has seen, is now hers to share:
“Do not hold on to me… Go instead to my brothers and tell them…” The one who has been called by name by the Grace of God to see is now sent with a message. The one who has seen the Lord is now to speak of him and help others to see him! She, by her words and hope, will bring hope and an end to the searching of those who have been lost in their own weariness. Mary came to the tomb searching for a body, but she left the garden proclaiming a risen Saviour, having realised she was lost and now can she her testimony will begin the movement that will help millions to see Jesus for who he was – Lord and Saviour. It begins in powerful simplicity: “I have seen the Lord.”

That is the pattern the New Testament gives us again and again; we are a people who have seen the Lord, and now make the Lord seen. Think about Acts 10, where Peter stands and says to all that they have been witnesses to these things: Witnesses must speak of what they have known and seen – as truth. That same movement that began in the moment of Mary’s recognition continues with each of us by the Spirit. We are like her, not sent because she understands everything; sent because she has seen, experienced and known the Joy of the resurrection. Because she has met the risen Christ and been grasped by the life he offers. We are called to bear witness in the places where God has put us, in the ordinary roads we walk, in the conversations we have with family and friends; we make Him seen by living as He lived and loving as He loved.

4 Seeing Again (Conclusion)

That is the danger for many of us, that Easter can feel so familiar that we stop really looking at it; we become blind by staleness, and our faith becomes lifeless: we known the songs, we know the liturgy, we can guess the sermon, and all other things – we known the shape of truth: yet, it is possible that we still do not truly see Christ for who he is. Familiarity is not the same as faith! Knowing the story is not the same as encountering the risen saviour! Mary knew Jesus, loved Jesus, and came looking for Jesus, and, at first, she did not recognise him for who he was – now she does. So now we must heed her example and the call of the Easter morning: have we allowed the Spirit of God to open our eyes to the wonder of the risen Lord?

This is the beauty of Easter, that wherever we are and whatever we are carrying, there is always a reason to be joyful, because our joy does not rest in the strength of our faith, the clarity of our vision, or the steadiness of our hearts, but in the reality of what God has done in Christ. We are a people who can say, with confidence and wonder, He is risen, because the tomb is empty, death has been defeated, and sin no longer has the final word over those who belong to him. The risen Jesus still comes to his people, still speaks peace into our confusion, still calls wandering hearts by name, and still sends his people out into the world with hope upon their lips. So the question remains before each of us this morning, and it is the question that has been running through the whole passage from beginning to end: have you truly seen him, and if you have, are you ready now to live so that others might see him too?