Jesus lingers with us in our loss, both during and beyond Easter
It’s an eternal tension, a quintessential question Christians carry: How do we hold on to joy though this world gives way to grief? As believers, we hinge our hope on Christ’s victory over death. We rejoice in our salvation—the gift of eternal life—yet grief grows wild, runs rampant in this life.
I wake each morning to new mercies, only to reckon with old wounds. I could read you my litany of losses, but I know you have yours too: The estranged daughter. The marriage in need of mending. The new diagnosis. The loved one lost too soon. The house that burned down. The pet that passed away. The love that betrayed you. The crowd that harmed you.
When the resurrected Jesus appeared at the garden tomb, as yet unrecognizable to Mary, he asked her, “Woman, why are you crying?” (John 20:15). Christ, even in his moment of victory, made space for her grief. In this way, is not the Resurrection reminiscent of the Incarnation? That unfathomable mystery that Christ came as a baby, forsaking all power for the sake of propitiation, yes, but also simply for the sake of proximity to us.
Jesus, with the simplicity of a question, makes space for Mary’s sorrow. At the garden tomb—that place of both greenery and grave, of miracle and mourning—Christ’s compassionate moment with Mary demonstrates that we are chosen to know and to be known by him. We are not merely a people to rescue; we are a people, yes, saved and sent out (Mark 3:13–14), but also invited simply to be with him.
On Easter Sunday, I remember the first thing Jesus did after his resurrection. Though the God-man had just been raised to life, he continued to stoop down and stay low. This is how Jesus has always been. He is …