By JP O’Connor, Ph.D.
“Where are you, muffin? Where are you?” I hear my two-year son declare earnestly every morning. Once the light peeks ever so softly into his room, he knows it’s time to get up and begin his daily search and rescue mission. With no time to waste, he attempts to locate and find all of his stuffed animals displaced during the night. Make no mistake; this is an urgent task. Upon entering his room, I assist him in the furry-friends reconnaissance mission, no questions asked. His eagerness is contagious: we mustn’t rest until every pillow is overturned and every blanket is shaken out. Relief sets in once all five or six of his faux friends have been found and tightly squeezed.
This resurrection Sunday, I am writing to you about the art of searching for the resurrected Jesus. Where are you, Jesus? Where are you? I speak from my own experience when I say: it can be insidiously easy for well-meaning Christians to assume that Jesus has already been found. No need to search for him anymore. “We got him.” Or “He’s ours.” While much can be said about the security of knowing who Jesus is, today’s post is about the wonder, mystery, and humility in admitting when we may not know, exactly, where Jesus is or what he is doing.
In the final chapter of the Gospel of Matthew, the Evangelist tells us that Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went out to the tomb of Jesus early Sunday morning (28:1). I wonder what thoughts passed through their minds or what feelings welled up in their hearts as they approached the tomb. Mark and Luke tell us that the two women were on the way to anoint Jesus’s body with burial spices (Mark 16:2; Luke 24:1) and, according to some Jewish traditions, a postmortem tomb visit would not have been unusual. But Matthew provides no information regarding their thoughts or intentions, only that they went to “visit” the tomb. Had they understood his message (Matthew 12:38-40)? Did either of the two Marys expect him to be there still? Had they come to grieve?
Soon after arriving, something strange takes place. An earthquake tremors the ground, and an angel, bright as the California sun, knocks them flat on the ground (28:4). Whatever thoughts preoccupied their minds in that moment came to a screeching halt as fight or flight instincts took over. Confused and disoriented on the ground, they heard the following incredulous words from an angelic stranger:
Then the angel spoke to the women. “Don’t be afraid!” he said. “I know you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He isn’t here! He is risen from the dead, just as he said would happen. Come, see where his body was lying. And now, go quickly and tell his disciples that he has risen from the dead, and he is going ahead of you to Galilee. You will see him there. Remember what I have told you.” (Matthew 28:5-7; trans. NRSV)
Matthew tells us that upon hearing the angel, the women “ran quickly from the tomb.” Their search for Jesus intensifies: they must tell the other disciples the good news. I imagine their initial journey to the tomb to be a saunter. With heavy hearts, they go to the tomb of their departed friend with much on their minds. They know exactly where Jesus is, so there is no need to hurry. But now, after startling new information reached their ears, news that Jesus is gone, they had to go and tell the other disciples as quickly as possible. Pick up the pace, Mary; Jesus is somewhere “ahead of you.” So they ran quickly to tell the rest of the disciples, and maybe to gather the supplies necessary to make the long trek up to Galilee.
Then something else unexpected happens. On the way to tell their friends about this exciting news, they actually run into the resurrected Jesus.
What I like about Matthew’s account of the story is that the women were not immediately looking for Jesus (cf. Luke 24:9-12). To be quite accurate, they had no idea of Jesus’s exact whereabouts. Geographically, if Jesus’s burial was around Jerusalem, the only information these women were given was he went “to Galilee.” Was he already “there” (Matthew 28:7)? We might estimate at least 25 to 30 hours of walking lies ahead of them, which would amount to a multi-day journey.
The two Marys serendipitously encounter Jesus while on their way to tell their friends about his resurrection.
My case to you this Easter morning is that the posture of the Christian life should be one of constant searching for the resurrected Jesus and not one of knowing exactly where he is at all times. We, like Mary Magdalene and the other Mary in Matthew’s story, ought to be eagerly seeking our risen Lord. Or like my son, as soon as the morning light breaks, we begin our feverish hunt before we have time to get out of our PJs. For Christians, the resurrection of Jesus is both a point in time (that is, a point in history when God raised Jesus from the dead) and a way of life. Living a resurrected life means we are always on the hunt for the risen Lord.
There is a danger in knowing too much, assuming that we know where Jesus is at all times and in all places. That he is always on our side. Like a ragdoll on the shelf, we think we can pick him up exactly where we left him. He was never lost in the night. When the attitude of knowing-too-much takes over, I think we miss out on the adventure, surprise, even humiliation of being caught off guard or knocked to our feet by a stranger with good news. We miss out on something deep and meaningful when we forget that Jesus often moves around in the night.
This Resurrection Sunday, may we foster a heart of searching. Each morning may we wake up eagerly to retrace our steps to find the places and the people to which the resurrected Jesus is on the way and let us go and meet him there (Matthew 28:10).
JP O’Connor, Ph.D., is Assistant Professor of New Testament at North Central University.
