Running to the Tomb
I’m finishing up reading through the book of John. Chapter 20 unveils the disciples’ earnestness on the first Easter morning, as the hope of the resurrection began to dawn in their own hearts.
Mary Magdalene came early to the tomb, but saw the stone was already taken away. John omits the other women (Mary the mother of James, and Salome), as well as the angelic appearances (Matthew 28:1–7, Mark 16:1–7, Luke 24:1–7), and instead focuses immediately on Mary Magdalene’s response. Verse 2 says, “So she ran…”. I hadn’t noticed that detail before. She ran to go and tell “Simon Peter and the other disciple whom Jesus loved”, saying, “They have taken away the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid Him” (John 20:2).
I wonder what was going through Mary’s mind as she ran. Panic that if she delayed, she might be too late? Fear that they had lost the body of Jesus forever? Indignation at some unknown perpetrator? Perhaps hope that maybe Christ had done as He had promised, and risen from the dead? The Scripture doesn’t say, but the fact that Mary ran shows that she believed speaking to Peter and John was of the highest importance. Nothing could hinder her. She permitted nothing to distract her. “But Mary,” I wish I could ask her, “What was so important that you had to run?”
But Mary is not the only one who runs. After she tells Peter and John that Jesus’ body was missing, they run—back to the tomb. John 20:3–4 says:
So Peter and the other disciple went forth, and they were going to the tomb. The two were running together; and the other disciple ran ahead faster than Peter and came to the tomb first
Luke’s account tells that “the apostles” (Luke 24:10) thought the women who reported the happenings at the tomb were speaking “nonsense, and they would not believe them” (Luke 24:11). But despite their incredulity, Peter and John went to the tomb. They heard the women’s testimony, and even if they might have originally rejected it, they went out. And as they were going—without any explanation given—they were running. Perhaps they went to disprove the women. Perhaps they went merely to appease their urging. But these motives would not explain the need for haste. Why would they run?
Was worry filling their minds as they thought about Jesus’ missing body? Were they confused as they tried to sort out the women’s testimonies? Perhaps it was hope. “Maybe,” they thought, “Jesus has risen from the dead.” Maybe, as they went out and mulled over the women’s words, they began to remember Jesus’ words, “The Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed and be raised up on the third day” (Luke 9:22). Had He, in whom was life itself (John 5:26), defeated death by death? Had He who was the Resurrection and the Life (John 11:25) put on life eternal? Had the good Shepherd, who laid His life down for the sheep (John 10:14-15), with authority taken it back up, never to die again (John 10:18)?
Could it be?
John and Peter were eager to see the tomb. They ran because they could not wait to see for themselves. Despite any incredulity, despite grimacing at the bloody, mangled mess of Jesus hanging on the cross (John 19:18), despite seeing the spear pierce His side and the blood and the water (John 19:34), despite know that His body had been taken from the cross and buried in the tomb (John 19:38–42), still they ran.
They must know, truly know, if their Lord had risen. Their hearts were drawn to the hope, the one-in-a-quadrillion chance, that perhaps Jesus really had pulled off the miracle of the millennium—no, the miracle of all eternity. Their pace quickened, their stride lengthened, their breath labored because they needed to know.
Could it be? Could it really true?
Such earnestness caught my attention. For all the flak we give the disciples for their slowness and arrogance in the gospel accounts, we must also concede this: they were earnest about their Savior. They left careers, houses, brothers, sisters, mothers, children, farms for Jesus’ sake and for the gospel’s sake (Mark 10:29). They all said—and deep down truly meant—that they were willing to go to the death with Him (Mark 14:31). They wanted to live with, walk with, minister with, learn from, reign with, die with their Savior. Assuredly, at times, their zeal was misguided, foolish, and sinful (John 18:10, Luke 9:54, etc.); they had much to learn about love, patience, and grace. Yes, they failed to follow through on many of their self-willed resolves. Yet still, their love for Christ was earnest. Peter ran to the tomb. John ran faster. Why? Because they were earnest about their Savior.
What about us? In our desire to be respectable, have we forgotten that we are a people purchased by Christ’ blood to be zealous for good deeds (Titus 2:14)? In our thirst to be accepted by the world, have we blunted the sword of the Word (Hebrews 4:12)? In our lust to be admired by the culture, have we edited God? In our abuse of free grace, have we mocked being slaves to righteousness (Romans 5:17–18)? In our Pharisaical hearts, have we marginalized justice, mercy, and faithfulness (Matthew 23:23)? Jesus spat the lukewarm Laodiceans out of His mouth (Revelation 3:15–16). Woe to us if we do not heed the warning, lest we too be spat out in disgust!
When is the last time you longed to pray to God? “As the deer pants for the water brooks, So my soul pants for You, O God” (Psalm 42:1). When’s the last time you were eager to hear a sermon? “I have treasured the words of His mouth more than my necessary food” (Job 23:12). When’s the last time you stayed up late—not playing video games, not shopping online, not doing homework, not chatting with friends, not organizing your life—but reading the living Word of God? “My eyes anticipate the night watches, / That I may meditate on Your word” (Psalm 119:148). When’s the last time you yearned to worship in person with the church? “My soul longed and even yearned for the courts of the LORD; …For a day in Your courts is better than a thousand outside…” (Psalm 84:2, 10). When is the last time you wept for the wicked? “My eyes shed streams of water, Because they do not keep Your law” (Psalm 119:136). This is the language of desire, not mere duty. This is the heart of true religion, not a religion of rote. This is the fire of devotion to God, not just the formalism of hypocrites. It is earnestness, eagerness, zeal.
One of the doctors in my community died from COVID recently. A couple of his patients, remarking on his remarkable life of faithfulness, said, “He was earnest.” They proceeded to tell me stories of his life, which multiple times over demonstrated his earnestness, his zeal, for his Lord. He was earnest to preach the gospel; earnest to love others; earnest to serve the church; earnest to love his employees like his adopted children; earnest to die to self; earnest to know and obey the Scriptures.
If, at the end of my earthly life, someone eulogized me with, “He was earnest,” I think I would have lived a good life. I want to live that kind of life, earnest for the things of God, running to my resurrected Savior until the very last breath. Dear Christian, don’t you? So, as the writer of Hebrews says,
Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. (Hebrews 12:1–2)
Photo by Axel Bimashanda on Unsplash