He is not here—He is Risen

Light breaks through the darkness. Lake Zug, Switzerland
Photo: Karen Curjel

Before the sun had fully risen, Mary of Magdala went to the tomb. It was still dark. That detail from the Gospel of John 20:1-9, has always moved me. Darkness outside, and no doubt within her heart too. Mary was grieving, afraid, and yet she came. She came to be close to Jesus, even if only to weep beside the tomb.

But the stone had been rolled away. The body was gone. “They have taken the Lord from the tomb,” she says, “and we don’t know where they put him.” Her words reflect a deep sadness, confusion, and love. She doesn’t quite understand, but she goes, she runs, she tells.

There’s a lot of running in this Gospel. Mary runs to Peter and the other disciple. They run to the tomb, one out running the other. It’s as if love can’t wait. Even in their shock and confusion, they hurry toward the place where they last knew Jesus to be. And it’s there, in the emptiness of the tomb, that they begin to understand.

And yet, the Gospel tells us, “they did not yet understand the Scripture that he had to rise from the dead.”

I often wonder what that moment felt like, standing in the empty tomb, not fully understanding but beginning to sense that something miraculous had happened. Easter begins not with understanding but with wonder, with hearts seeking, with running steps and uncertain faith.

Paul’s words to the Colossians (3:1-4) help us make sense of it all: “If you were raised with Christ, seek what is above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God… For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.”

Mary’s grief, Peter’s running, the empty tomb. None of it was the end of the story. It was a beginning. Our life is now hidden in Jesus Christ, and Easter invites us to seek what is above, to rise with him.

This Easter, may we not be afraid of the dark. Let us be afraid of not knowing where the Lord is. He is not where we last left him. He has gone ahead of us. Let us run, too, hearts burning, to seek the Risen Lord.

Thank you for walking with me through Lent

Throughout these weeks, we have reflected on kindness and its challenges, its cost, and its quiet power. On this Easter morning, may Christ’s resurrection renew our desire to live kindly, speak gently, and love generously. The tomb is empty. Love has risen. Let us carry that love forward.

May the Risen Lord fill your heart with peace. May it light your soul and fill your life with joy.

Karen Curjel