NOTES for Joh 20:1-10

It is no surprise that among the very first to come to the tomb were the deeply devoted Mary Magdalene and the beloved disciple, who had not abandoned Christ even during His execution. Yet beside them we see Peter, and this testifies not only to his having begun to recover from the shocks of the preceding days, nor merely to the renewed strength of his previously shaken loyalty to the Teacher, but also to the mercy of those who had not denied Christ and had stood at the cross. They did not reject the one who had stumbled, or denounce and drive him away according to the Pharisaic-Nietzschean principle, ‘Push the one who is falling.’ Those who loved showed not only steadfastness, but also a wisdom that surpasses disciplinary justice and is harder to attain. Faithfulness to the Teacher also found expression in faithfulness to one's neighbour.

There is something psychologically convincing in the fact that the beloved disciple does not immediately enter the empty tomb, whereas Peter, impulsive and little inclined to reflection, enters at once, without much thought — just as he had given little thought before declaring that he would not deny Him, or before striking with his sword. Both showed their love for the Lord, but in different ways, in keeping with their individual personalities.

Nevertheless, John's testimony that they did not yet know from Scripture that He had to rise from the dead is striking, for how many times, one might ask, had Christ told His disciples about this! They must not have connected Christ's words with what the Lord had previously revealed to people in the Old Testament. But what the Lord reveals is inseparable from what He has already revealed. Much in the New Testament will remain incomprehensible without the Old.

Christ is risen from the dead! How many different understandings and perceptions of this fact can be found in people’s minds and hearts today. Some openly reject this miracle, some pay no attention to it, and some take it for granted without seeing what it means. But those who seek the Lord and life with Him experience joy above all. Every year Easter brings each of us something special, unlike what happened the year before. Every year our heart is prepared differently to receive the death and Resurrection of Jesus Christ. But we are called to deepen our “participation” in this feast. This is precisely why the Church celebrates Easter every year, helping us enter into the life of our Lord and be renewed, breaking off yet another piece of the “old self” (see Eph 4:24). The disciples, too, had heard Jesus speak several times of His death and Resurrection (see Mk 8:31–32; 9:30–32; 10:32–34), yet they could not accept or believe that the Teacher was dying, nor did they remember His words about the Resurrection until He Himself came to them and reminded them. But despite this, Christ rose. And He calls us to share His joy, of which He has so much. So now, without debating how ready we are or when we began trying to live with the Lord, let us rejoice in His Resurrection. He has brought us new life, life without death, and holds it out to us in His hands. May our exultation be our answer to this gift.

It is considered that the disciple of Christ of whom the Gospel says that "Jesus loved him" was the apostle John. These words puzzle many people: how can this be? Does Jesus not love everyone equally? Did He not die on the Cross and rise for each of us?

Of course, for each of us; of course, His love cannot be compared at all. He does not love one person more and another less, but neither does He love everyone in the same way. He loves each person separately, each as an independent person whom He created, to whom He gave a name, for whom He suffered and died, whom He forgave, and to whom He gave eternal life. But we can love more or less. The apostle John himself loved more, loved Jesus more strongly than anyone else. And the one who loves more can receive and contain more love. Christ gives each person as much love as that person can bear, because in our souls there are sometimes such dark corners that they simply cannot coexist with love, and the Lord does not wish to do violence to us.

Therefore John needs no proofs or assurances, because his immense love for the Teacher gives him hope in Christ's Resurrection, although he, like the other apostles, did not understand the prophecies about death and resurrection. And this same immense love gives him such faith that it is enough for him to see "the linen cloths lying there, and the cloth that had been on His head, not lying with the linen cloths but folded up in a place by itself," to know that the Lord has risen. The Gospel does not even tell us precisely what the disciple believed, because the whole Gospel speaks of faith in the Resurrection.

When reading the accounts of the Resurrection, it becomes clear that despite everything Jesus had told them during His earthly ministry, the apostles were completely unprepared to meet the Risen One. It is no accident that John mentions the burial garments, the “linen wrappings,” which first made the apostles wonder whether something unusual was happening (vv. 1–9). Indeed, according to Jewish custom, the body was wrapped in a shroud so tightly that it was practically impossible to unwrap it without damaging the cloth. Yet the apostles saw this shroud not only intact but apparently even undisturbed, so that the cloth usually tied around the dead person's head, the “face cloth” of v. 7, remained lying separately, apparently in the place where the Saviour's head had been before the Resurrection. What had happened could not be explained otherwise than as a miracle. But the apostles apparently still had no very clear idea of exactly what had occurred.

Mary Magdalene did, of course, see the risen Jesus while still in the garden and immediately reported it to the apostles (vv. 11–18), but her testimony was probably not enough for them. The real encounter took place that same evening (vv. 19–23), and then the apostles were finally able to convince themselves that their Teacher was truly alive. It is no accident that Jesus allows them to look at His hands, feet and ribs (v. 20). The marks of the wounds were to convince the apostles that what stood before them was not a ghost, not a shade that had emerged from the tomb, as they might have thought after hearing from Mary Magdalene that the Risen One had not allowed her to touch Him (v. 17). This was extremely important, for the matter concerned not only the Person of the Risen One, but also the nature of the Kingdom. If it differed in no way from the world of shades and spirits, its influence on the world would be no stronger than theirs. Shades and spirits may sometimes make their presence known, but they are unable to exert a serious influence on the existing order of things, much less to change it radically, as the world is changed when it becomes part of the Kingdom.

But despite all its objectivity and tangible reality, the Kingdom apparently differs substantially in some respects from our world, which has not yet been transformed. It is no accident that the Lord still places Thomas's desire to feel Jesus' wounds with his own hands below trust in testimony (vv. 24–29). For what matters most in the Kingdom is determined by trust: trust in God, trust in Jesus, trust in one another. Trust is the foundation of everything. Without it there is no Kingdom. And it cannot depend on whether one can touch with one's hands what one believes in or the person one trusts. Not because this is forbidden, but because what matters most in the Kingdom cannot be touched with the hands. It can be touched only with the heart. Everyone who wants to live the life of the Kingdom must be ready for this.