Appearances

To Mary in Bethany

For Mary, the emotional upheaval of the past 48 hours was almost more than she could bear.

There had always been that special bond between herself and Jesus — her Lord, the man of God who had saved her from terrible illness. Indeed, he and his disciples had been guests at her house for the past week. But Thursday morning, there had been something different about him — a sad look in his eyes, an intensity about the way he had said goodbye.

When he and his followers had not returned that evening, she had been perplexed and a little alarmed, so she had gone to Jerusalem herself as soon as the day dawned on Friday.

What an awful spectacle she had witnessed! Her Lord had been taken before the Roman governor and condemned to death by crucifixion. She watched in disbelief as he was mocked, scorned, tortured and finally nailed to a cross at the Place of the Skull. She wanted to turn and run, but she could not abandon him. So she remained there, with the other women, hearing the insults and the taunting, watching his life ebb away until he cried out loud and breathed his last.

She had watched as Joseph and Nicodemus gently took his body to Joseph’s own tomb and laid it within, sealing it with a large stone. She had discussed with the others the need to properly anoint Jesus, and they had resolved to do so at the first opportunity.

And she had wept until she could weep no more.

On the first day of the week, she and Mary, the mother of James and Salome had taken their spices and left for the tomb before sunrise. Along the way, they spoke together of how this remarkable man had touched their lives. And they discussed the problem of the great stone, without really resolving it. As they approached the garden, Mary was horrified to see that the stone had already been moved, and the tomb was empty. She ran back to tell Peter and the others, and then returned to the garden alone.

Now, slowly, she approached the tomb, weeping and confused. Who would do such a thing? And why? She was startled to see two figures inside who asked, “Why are you crying?” Before she could answer, someone approached her from behind. Has this man taken my Lord away? “Please, sir, tell me what you’ve done with him!”

And then she heard her name, in a cadence so familiar the voice could belong to no one but…”Rabboni!” As she held him a jumble of thoughts and emotions flooded over her. My Lord! It’s really my Lord! He’s alive! And he’s going to his Father — my Father! — that he may never die again.

To James the Lord’s brother

James had always had a difficult time with Jesus. Being brothers, there was the normal sibling rivalry — not that Jesus ever really participated in it.

But he was always so different from the rest of the family; distant in a lot of ways. Above all, so, well, good. No, better than good: he never did anything wrong. How are you supposed to relate to someone who never does anything wrong? Mother would say it was because he was the Son of God, but James couldn’t believe she meant it literally. She must have been speaking in some sort of metaphor.

It had really galled him when Jesus had more or less abandoned the family when he turned 30. They weren’t wealthy people and could certainly have used Jesus’ support. But no, he’d gone off on his preaching mission; and that with Mother’s blessing! He couldn’t understand it, and it irritated him immensely.

There’d been the time he came back to Nazareth and was surrounded by a huge crowd. There were so many people clamoring for attention he wasn’t even able to eat. The family had gone to rescue him, but did he appreciate it? No! He wouldn’t even acknowledge them. In fact, he’d said he didn’t consider them to be his family.

So James was not very close to Jesus and was certainly not one of his followers (cf. John 7:5). Still, he was troubled by recent events. Despite the antipathy he felt, it’s difficult to hear your own brother has been executed by the Romans. And hearing about the body disappearing from the tomb – very strange. But oddest of all were the reports that he had come back from the dead and appeared to many of his followers. Were they all deceived? Or was it possible Jesus was the Messiah after all?

He was alone in his carpenter’s shop, mulling these things over, when a voice behind him softly spoke his name (cf. I Cor. 15:7). The voice was so familiar that he was hardly surprised at all when he turned to see his brother. He had almost expected it.

It was unmistakably Jesus, but not the Jesus he remembered. For one thing, he bore the marks of crucifixion. In spite of that, he looked more glorious than any human he had ever seen. This man had been transformed.

They spoke together for a short while, and then Jesus was gone. James was gone, as well – the old James, at any rate. A new James had taken his place, a James who now believed unswervingly that his brother — his half-brother — was indeed the Son of God.

To Peter

Peter had been absolutely devastated. For three-and-a-half years, he had faithfully followed Jesus of Nazareth. In his heart of hearts, he knew Jesus was the Messiah, the Son of God. He loved him unreservedly and had pledged his lifelong allegiance. He would follow Jesus to prison, or even death. He would never deny him.

But then came that awful time in the garden. An armed mob with torches and clubs had come to arrest his Master. And frightened though he was, he had drawn his sword and defended his Lord. But Jesus had rebuked Peter and surrendered himself to them.

The other disciples had scattered. Peter’s impulse was to flee with them, but he had to know what would become of Jesus. So he kept a safe distance and followed the mob. They’d gone to Caiaphas’ house – into the lion’s den! Peter had thought it was the end of the line for him, but another disciple managed to get him into the courtyard.

He’d tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible, but suddenly it seemed as if everyone was looking at him. The maid at the door asked if he was a disciple. His response was automatic: “No, I’m not.” Around the fire, others asked the same question. “No!” Why are you doing this? he thought. Leave me alone! Finally a man with a familiar and accusing face had said Peter was in the garden with Jesus. The denial was vehement and still on Peter’s lips when the cock crowed. Peter felt a chill at that sound. As he raised his eyes, he saw that Jesus was looking at him – a sad, knowing expression on his face. He felt as if a knife had been plunged into his heart.

He had fled that place and spent the night wandering about on the Mount of Olives, weeping bitterly and reproaching himself for his cowardice. He had denied his Lord — three times! How could he possibly be forgiven?

Friday was a blur to him. He remembered only that by evening he had found his way back to the upper room with ten of the other disciples — the traitor Judas had dropped out of sight. They all listened in stunned silence as John reported the grim events of the day. Their Lord was dead.

They spent the Sabbath together in fear and despair.

They were awakened in the morning of the first day of the week by an excited knocking at the door. They were reluctant to answer, fearful of being arrested themselves; but when the knocker identified herself as Mary, they opened the door at once.

Her story seemed to make the situation even worse, as she told of her journey to the tomb and her discovery that it was empty. What was going on?

Peter and John had raced to the tomb, finding it just as she had said. Yet something was very odd. The Lord was not there, but his grave-clothes were. Surely no one would take the body without the grave-clothes. As John con­sidered the situation, Peter thought he saw a look of understanding cross the face of his comrade.

John returned to the upper room, but Peter decided to visit Gethsemane as he tried to sort things out. He went to the place where Jesus had prayed so fervently only three nights before. As he knelt in prayer, he heard a voice call his name: “Simon bar-Jonah” (cp. I Con 15:5).

Peter’s heart leapt as he instantly recognized the voice. He looked up to see the Lord’s face smiling upon him and a wave of exhilaration washed over him. At that moment, two things became startlingly clear to him. His Master had risen from the dead on the third day, just as he had said. And he, Peter who had denied his Lord three times, had been fully forgiven. Jesus’ words came unbidden into his mind: “You will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will turn into joy.” What an amazing joy it was.

That joy will be ours as well if the resurrection of the Lord touches us as it did Mary, James and Peter.