Who are you Looking For?

Text focus: John 20:1–18

Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb. And that’s where Easter begins. Not with trumpets. Not with certainty. Not even with hope, really. But with a woman walking through the dark… carrying grief.

Mary goes to the tomb, and one of the first questions we have to ask is why. Why does she go? Is she going to grieve? Almost certainly.

Is she going out of love and devotion?

Again, Yes.

But is she going because she expects resurrection?

Maybe...

But if she expected resurrection, she wouldn’t be surprised by an empty tomb. She wouldn’t run to tell the disciples, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb.” She wouldn’t be weeping outside, assuming someone has stolen the body.

Mary goes to the tomb not because she expects life… but because she is trying to make sense of death. And wow, how many times have we come to God the same way. Not full of unwavering faith. Not full of certainty. But carrying grief, confusion, questions, and longing.

Mary doesn’t arrive at the tomb with answers. She arrives searching. And that brings us to the central question of this morning.

When she turns and sees Jesus, she doesn’t recognize him. And he asks her, “Who are you looking for?”

Not just what happened. Not just why are you crying.

But, Who are you looking for?

It’s a question that echoes beyond that garden. It’s a question for every one of us.

Who are you looking for?

Are you looking for a God who fixes everything neatly?

A God who removes all suffering?

A God who meets your expectations?

Or are you looking for the risen Christ?

The Christ who shows up in ways you don’t expect, who acts on a timeline you don’t control, and calls you into something new?

Because Mary is looking right at Jesus and doesn’t recognize him. Scripture tells us she thinks he’s the gardener. Which, interestingly enough, is not entirely wrong.

Because in this moment of resurrection, a new creation is being born.

A new beginning. Revealed in a garden.

But she doesn’t see it yet. Because grief has a way of blinding us. Loss has a way of narrowing our vision. Sometimes we are so focused on what we think should be there that we miss what God is actually doing.

And then everything changes in a single moment.

Jesus says one word, “Mary.”

He calls her name. And suddenly, she knows. In that moment when she hears her name she recognizes him. Not because she figured it out. Not because she reasoned her way there. Not because she had all the right theology. But because she was known. Something that has echoed through scripture, when Jesus calls her name he is indicating that he knows her. Deeply. Personally. Intimately. Entirely.

“Mary.”

In this one word, he breaks through her grief with love. This is how resurrection often works. Not as a grand argument. Not as undeniable proof. But as a personal encounter. A moment where Christ calls your name. And you realize, you are not alone.

In Isaiah, God says "Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine". But then something unexpected happens. Mary turns toward him, and reaches out to embrace him. The Greek here is haptomai, meaning to cling to. It suggests that she embraces him and she wants to hold on.

Like when you hug a loved one and you don’t want to let go.

And of course she wants to hold on. She lost him once. She doesn’t want to let go and lose him again.

But Jesus says, “Don’t hold on to me.”

Or as the NRSV puts it “Don’t touch me.”

Which sounds almost harsh at first. But it’s not rejection. It’s invitation.

It’s Jesus saying, don’t stay here. Don’t get stuck in this moment. Don’t cling to what was.

Because resurrection is not about going back. It’s about going forward.

And then he tells her, “Go to my brothers and sisters and tell them.”

Mary came to the tomb to grieve. But she leaves as a witness.

She came looking for a body. She leaves proclaiming life.

She leaves saying “I have seen the Lord!”

Now, let’s be honest about something else in this story. Most of Jesus’ followers are not expecting resurrection. Peter and the other disciple run to the tomb, but they don’t seem to understand yet. The text says of the beloved disciple, “He saw and believed.”

But what did he believe?

Did he believe Jesus was risen?

Or did he simply believe that the tomb was empty?

That the body was gone?

The truth is the text leaves that open. Because belief is often a process. Not a single moment. A journey. That starts with hope.

For some, faith begins with an empty tomb.

For others, it begins with hearing their name.

For others still, it comes slowly, over time, through community, through testimony, through lived experience.

The triggers for faith are different. But the invitation is the same. So let me ask you again, Who are you looking for?

And maybe even more honestly, What do you expect resurrection to look like?

Do you expect to encounter the living Christ in your life?

Or have you come here this morning, like Mary, carrying grief, carrying loss, carrying questions… not quite sure what you’ll find?

That’s the amazing thing about Easter. It is at the core of our faith, and it doesn’t begin with certainty. It begins in the dark. It begins with grief, and questioning.

And the beautiful thing is that it doesn’t stay there. Because the risen Christ is still calling names. Still meeting people in unexpected places. Still turning grief into witness. Still sending people out to say, “I have seen the Lord.”

And maybe that’s where this comes home for us. Because the call of Easter is not just to see. It is also to go.

To let go of what was. To not stay stuck in grief, or fear, or even comfort. But to move forward as people of resurrection. To be witnesses to Lord we have seen in the way we live, in how we love, how we show up for one another.

Because the world is still full of people standing outside tombs. Still weeping. Still searching. Still asking questions they don’t have answers to.

And they need people who can say, “You are not alone.” People who can say there is life beyond this. There is hope beyond this. People who can say, “I have seen the Lord.”

So this Easter morning, if you came here grieving, Christ meets you.

If you came here searching, Christ meets you.

If you came here unsure what you believe, Christ meets you.

And maybe, just maybe… you will hear him calling your name.

And when you do, don’t fall into the temptation to hold on. Or to get stuck in that moment. Go, go quickly with joy into the world. Saying “I have seen the Lord”

Go into the world telling the story, the story of love, the story of hope. Telling the story of belonging. Go into the world and live the resurrection.

Amen.