Easter Service - The Gift of Perseverance
John 20: 11 – 18
From the Bible passage we read, we see Mary Magdalene standing outside the tomb, weeping. She was in deep sadness and grief. Mary Magdalene was very close to Jesus, so it’s completely natural, as human beings, to feel sorrow at His death. However, if we read this story merely from a sentimental perspective, we might find it difficult to fully grasp its depth. Why? Because we were not there; we did not live at the same time as Jesus and Mary Magdalene. While we can understand her feelings to some extent, we can’t fully experience the same sense of loss and grief. That’s why we need another approach to read this beautiful story.
The death of Jesus was not just one death among many. His death was the epitome—the ultimate representation—of the end of sinners. It symbolized the end of sinful humanity. One of the most difficult things in life is to experience the death of someone we love. We still want to be with them, to express our love, but they are no longer there. It’s hard for us to accept that the love story has ended. This is why life can be so miserable for those who don’t believe in life after death—they believe there’s no opportunity to continue loving.
Mary Magdalene stood weeping and looked into the tomb. The tomb has a certain power—it draws us into a place of death, darkness, and deep misery. The presence of absence can be overwhelming. But then, a new message breaks in—the message of the resurrection. When we read further in the passage, we see that angels appear. This is not an ordinary experience—people don’t see angels every day. But strangely, Mary was not moved or surprised by their presence. When the angels asked her why she was weeping, she replied, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid Him.” From this sentence, we can sense that she was still emotionally and spiritually inside the “tomb”—the place of darkness and grief. Even when Jesus Himself appeared and asked her the same question, she still did not recognize Him (John 20:13–15).
The resurrection of Jesus is an objective reality. It does not depend on whether we believe it or not. Yet Mary couldn’t recognize or believe it at first because she was too deep in grief and spiritual death.
The turning point came when Jesus called her by name: “Mary” (John 20:16). This reminds us of John chapter 10, where Jesus proclaims Himself the Good Shepherd. In John 10:3, it says, “The sheep hear His voice, and He calls His own sheep by name and leads them out.” Jesus leads us out—out of grief, misery, and death. The same Jesus who called Mary Magdalene by name also calls you and me to follow Him.
The Good Shepherd says His sheep hear His voice. So, the questions are: Do we hear His voice? Do we know Him? Do we follow Him?
Blessed are those who can listen to the voice of the Great Shepherd—because not everyone can distinguish the voice of God. There are people who think that when God speaks through a sinner, it’s just a human voice. For them, God is just a social construct. Once again, blessed are those who truly hear the voice of God, just as Mary did.
Let us also reflect on the spiritual exercise of weeping. Before we can celebrate Easter Sunday, we need to understand Good Friday. There is no real joy that is not preceded by grief. There is no resurrection without death. Mary’s weeping was a lamentation. I ask you: Can we still shed tears in our lives, or have they dried up because life has become too hard to bear?
Perhaps we’ve become increasingly stoic—suppressing our grief and pain because it feels too heavy.
Kathleen M. O’Connor, an author, highlights the importance of lamentation:
“But the tears of lamentations are of loss and grief, abandonment and outrage. They are a flag, a sign, a revelation of injury and destruction, an expression of resistance to the world’s arrangement. They are also a release, an emptying, a cleansing of body and spirit. Lamentation validates tears. It has the power to gather bitter pain and bring tears to the surface. Then it accepts them. Tears can give watery birth to hope. They can wash out space once occupied by despair, fury, or sorrow, and in that space hope can emerge uninvited. Hope comes apart from human will, decision or optimism.”
From the first paragraph, we can see that lamentation is a process. If we do not accept this, we may end up taking the stoic path—pretending that there is no loss, no absence. Some people are so afraid of getting hurt that they avoid forming deep relationships altogether.
This quote also clearly distinguishes Christian hope from mere human optimism. Human optimism is often just a form of euphoria—believing we’re making progress, improving as human beings. But then, people end up facing failure, war, betrayal, or economic collapse. They fall again.
Look at the death of Jesus—it is a paradigm shift. Death is the destiny of all humans. No one can escape it. And Jesus placed Himself in that exact position—to take the place of sinful humanity. The resurrection message does not originate from within us. We’re not hypnotizing ourselves, trying to believe in something that might not be true. Many people are afraid to hope because they’ve been disappointed too many times—by governments, friends, even their own communities. So they conclude it’s safer to only take care of themselves.
Living in this fallen world is painful. But indifference is not the solution. The only way out is hope that comes from above—from the resurrection of Christ. Sadly, many people believe only in hope that comes from below: “Just be optimistic,” they say. But that kind of hope often leads to euphoria—and then, to disappointment.
But when we lament this broken world—a world that deserves to be lamented, just as Mary Magdalene wept—our tears can give watery birth to hope. Our hearts, once dry and filled with despair, fury, and sorrow, can begin to soften. When we have the courage to weep, water begins to seep into the barren places of our souls. And when God works, He can work through our tears. Jesus never said, “Be strong, you crybaby! Let me teach you to be stoic.” No—He asked Mary, “Why are you weeping?”
The dead space which was once occupied by despair and grief now becomes the place where hope emerges—uninvited. Why uninvited? Because we never invited Jesus. True hope from above is never initiated by sinful human beings. That’s why it must be distinguished from the counterfeit hope that comes from below.
Why are we critical of Arminianism? Because it teaches that we are the ones who invite God, who take the first step of faith, who persevere by our own strength. In this view, the story is about human greatness. But if that’s the case, how does it connect with the resurrection story? Did Lazarus ask Jesus to raise him from the dead? Did Mary recognize Jesus first at the tomb?Of course not. Hope comes apart from human will or decision. When we choose to believe, it is because a voice has already called to us. Without that voice, there would be no hope.
The resurrection message is about hope that comes from God. What’s the difference between hope and optimism? Optimism involves calculations. For example, “If I have enough money, I can do many things.” Or “My wife is fertile, so we can hope to have 3–4 children.” But this isn’t hope—it’s optimism. You calculate first, and then you hope based on your calculations.
Contrast that with Abraham, who was promised descendants even though his wife was barren. Or Hannah, who was barren yet received Samuel from God. Or Mary, who was not married, yet gave birth to Jesus. Pay attention, because there is a clear motive of impossibility in these stories—God is the One who works through the impossible.
The resurrection message breaks the bondage of calculation. Based on logic, Jesus would not have been resurrected. But He was. Throughout the Bible and church history, God accomplishes what is humanly impossible.
So the final question is: Do we build our lives on the shaky foundation of optimism and pessimism, or on the solid hope of the resurrection?
We betray the message of resurrection if we return to a life driven by worldly optimism or despair. Let us instead believe wholeheartedly in the message of resurrection. The lives of the apostles and Mary Magdalene were radically transformed—and that same transformation is now being worked on in us. God bless us. (G.N.S.)