What Matters Most
musings on the mundane and magnificent from a Christian perspective
There’s something so poignant about the first sounds of birdsong in spring. Their clear notes are almost piercing at first, louder after a long absence. It makes you realize that you’ve missed the sweet sound, that the passing winter was silent, void of the music now filling the air.
I wonder if Mary Magdalene’s Easter morning walk to the garden was accompanied by birdsong. Did nature sense something big was happening?
I love imaging this scene in John 20 and picturing myself in Mary’s shoes. What was that morning like? How far did she have to walk? Was it light by the time she got to the garden? What did she see – her 360-degree view of the scene that changed everything?
I like to imagine that she heard birdsong as she entered the garden. Maybe the smell of wet earth rose to meet her. Maybe the morning mist was starting to clear as she neared the tomb.
I don’t know the specifics of that Easter morning, but I do know Jesus cast seven demons out of her (Mark 16:9 and Luke 8:2). I know He was her only hope. If He didn’t rise from the dead, then there would be nothing to keep her from going back to her old life, no power to maintain her freedom. So, she would not leave Jesus. She could not. He was her only hope – and while that hope may have been dwindling in His followers, it was not extinguished.
With an ember of hope flickering in her eyes and undying love in her heart, she went to the tomb, to the last place she had seen Him. She went to minister to Him one last time. She could not bear to be separated from Him, even from His dead body. She had to see it through to the end. Her devotion demanded it.
And devotion she had in spades. Let’s continue our deep dive into John 20 and consider the ways in which Mary’s devotion to Jesus was expressed.
Spring has sprung, and as Easter approaches, my thoughts turn toward the very first Easter morning so many years ago. It’s a moment I think about often, a moment I can’t wait to ask about when I get to Heaven.
Because this is the moment that makes us, the moment that defines our faith as Christians.
My favorite account of this is in John 20, which is my probably my favorite passage in all of Scripture. The context of this passage is this:
- Jesus was crucified, and he is now dead. Physical death was verified by more than one witness.
- His body was placed in a new tomb close to the crucifixion site.
- Mary Magdalene, one of the followers of Jesus, witnessed the crucifixion and witnessed His body being placed in the tomb.
- After seeing this, she went home to prepare spices. The next day was the Jewish Sabbath day, so she rested in observance of this.
- The day after the Sabbath, while it was still dark, the first moment she could, she grabbed her spices and headed to the tomb. She was planning to anoint Jesus’ body with her spices according to Jewish burial customs, but, thankfully, her plans didn’t go the way she thought.
I love tracing Jesus’s steps in all four gospels, and I love encountering Jesus along with Mary. I’m next to her at the foot of the cross. I go home with her and prepare spices to anoint his body. I walk with her into the garden in the cool of the morning.
And I picture this moment as it unfolds, the moment all the Gospels have been leading up to, the moment all of history hangs on, the crucial, indisputable moment around which everything else revolves – Jesus alive and offering Himself to us in intimate relationship. This is the very crux of Christianity, and it’s worth exploring.
The essence of the Christian faith is not simply being a good person, doing good deeds, filling a seat in church week in and week out, or even believing that God exists. Even demons believe that (James 2:19). The essence of Christianity is knowledge of God – not just knowing about Him but knowing Him. John 17:3 tells us the definition of eternal life is knowing God.
The essence of Christianity is God calling us by name, just like He did with Mary (John 20:16), and us responding to Him. The first step in this is accepting the sacrifice Jesus made on the cross for us, and responding in full surrender of ourselves. And then it’s living out that knowledge every day of our lives in service to God and others. It’s the defining relationship of our life.
This is not about sentiment, and it’s not merely an intellectual exercise. It’s not about an experience. It’s about the substance and reality of the risen Lord – the one who still calls us to Himself.
This is why John 20 and the similar accounts in the other Gospels are so important. It’s why I love imagining that moment. And I love seeing it from Mary’s perspective.
Can you imagine what she must have felt the night He died? As a close follower of Jesus, she must have felt wholly overwhelmed and dismayed. There must have been such shock and grief. But there was also love – love for the Lord, remembrance of all He had done in His time on earth, gratitude for His salvation and deliverance. And I think Mary poured all that love and remembrance into her spices – a beautiful gift for the Lord. I can just see her at work, pouring her spice mixture into jars, with tears in her eyes but resolve in her heart.
So, come what may, she was not leaving that tomb until she had anointed His body. She was going to pour out her love and devotion on to Him one last time.
But thankfully, her spices weren’t needed. The tomb – borrowed for a few days – was no longer needed. There was no longer a dead body, no longer a reason for her to despair.
There was only life.
And the moment Mary encountered Jesus alive is a moment available to us all. I don’t know the specifics of that first Easter morning, but I know the life and love that are only found in Jesus. They are there for the taking. The reality Mary experienced in that precious moment is a reality we can experience every day. We can encounter Jesus in the best, most intimate relationship we’ll ever know. We can encounter Jesus alive and be made alive ourselves – alive in our very souls, alive always.
And that is a reason to celebrate – every day.