John 20 - Preacher's Commentary

From Sight to Faith

John 20:1–31

20:1-10

Seeing with Eyes of Love

The Resurrection of Jesus is not a spectacular event with crashing cymbals and blaring trumpets. No, the discovery that He is alive is like the quiet dawning of a new day heralding the defeat of the night. The risen Christ meets His friends personally and intimately at unexpected times and places, overcoming their grief and doubt. They are flooded with joy and peace as they move from sight to faith.

It is Mary who first comes to the tomb. Love is all she has to bring. She had sinned much and Jesus had done for her what no one else could do. He had forgiven and cleansed her. So she comes in the darkness sometime after 3:00 A.M., only to discover that something has happened. The stone has been removed. I recall the strange feeling that came over us when we walked into our home after being gone for some weeks. Someone had been there. One of the chairs was not in its regular place. Then we noticed a pane of glass in the back door was broken, and that the small kitchen radio was missing. That was only the beginning. Thieves had broken in! When Mary got to the grave, she knew with dismay someone had been there.

When Mary sees the open tomb she assumes the body is gone. She must get this news to the disciples. So with breathless urgency she runs to share this disturbing news with Peter, still the leader in spite of his weakness, and “the other disciple, whom Jesus loved” (v. 2). Can Peter be staying with John who is now caring for Jesus’ mother? We become aware that others have been with Mary at the tomb when she reports, “We do not know where they have laid Him.” They are concerned about the location of a lifeless body, and have no thought of any other kind of possibility.

When the two disciples hear this news they both take off running for the tomb to find out what might have happened. But “the other disciple outran Peter,” not because he was younger or stronger necessarily, but because he is the one who loved more. It is love that brings the disciple to the tomb first, as it drew Mary to the tomb early. He does not “go in,” but stoops down at the entrance and “peeps in” seeing nothing but the linen cloths. Obviously there is no body here.

It is Peter, impulsive and courageous as ever, who goes in all the way and sees the grave clothes lying there neatly, all in place. “Still in the folds” is the Greek phrase. Even the head cloths are separated from the rest of the garments. It is as if the dead one had simply stepped out into life. Peter sees, but apparently makes no response.

Now John “went in also; and he saw and believed” (v. 8). Notice the sequence. Love has brought John into the tomb, and then with eyes of love, he sees and understands what physical eyes alone can never penetrate. The empty tomb and the folded grave clothes are quiet evidence for him that Jesus is alive. And John believes! Love has brought him to faith. Later the living Christ will illuminate and open up those Scriptures which testify to His own Resurrection, teachings the disciples never understood during Jesus’ earthly ministry.

Was it in fear or perplexity or humble gratitude that the disciples “went away again to their own homes”? They needed time to reflect and ponder all that had taken place.

20:11-18

Go to My Brethren

Mary has returned and stands weeping at the tomb. Nothing has changed for her. Although when she stoops and looks in she may be hoping that the body has been returned. There is no body, but she sees an angel at both ends of the place where Jesus had been laid. As there had been two thieves with Jesus at the cross, so now there are two angels at the place of resurrection, a glorious testimony to God’s liberating action. Since they are messengers of life, little wonder they should ask Mary about her tears. In her hopelessness she answers, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid Him” (v. 13).

Now she turns and mistakes Jesus for the gardener. Grief can fill us with self-pity and keep us from seeing the truth. Then, as Barclay has said, we can be “facing in the wrong direction.”¹ So Mary sees Jesus as a stranger, who now also asks about her grief. Those in glory must often wonder about our tears. They see from such a different vantage point.

Jesus asks then, “Whom are you seeking?”—not what, but “whom?” And, assuming that this “stranger” may have been involved in moving Jesus’ body to a permanent grave, Mary asks if she may have the body to care for it. This is a small way in which she can show her love.

It is then the risen Christ speaks her name—tenderly, but with all the authority of one who has conquered death, “Mary!” (v. 16). It is the Shepherd calling one of His sheep, and Mary knows the voice. Then she “turned” to Him; she changes directions. It is the movement from grief to joy, from death to life. And in adoration and wonder, she falls at His feet and utters, “Rabboni!” This is the title one gives to Jesus at the beginning of faith.

And she clings to Jesus, attempting once again to lay hold on past association, to grasp Jesus as He was before the Crucifixion, tabernacled here in flesh, with all its limitations. So Jesus emphatically insists that Mary cannot continue clinging to Him.

In His Resurrection Jesus has not only broken the bonds of sin and death, but also the limitation of space and time and the weaknesses of earthly existence. By the power of God He has wrought a new creation, a new order. He is now returning to His Father. Mary is to cling to Him when this journey is completed and He is in perfect union with the Father. Through the Spirit, she will then abide in Christ and “cling” to Him as her permanent place of abiding.

Mary is now to go to the “brethren,” a new title for the disciples who have become sons and daughters of the Father through Jesus’ death and resurrection (v. 17). When Jesus speaks of “My Father and your Father,” and “My God and your God,” He is defining a whole new standing for believers in the “divine household.”

Mary, who is the first to see the Lord, is to be the messenger of His Resurrection and Ascension. Rather than allowing her to cling to Him, the risen Lord sends her on a mission to tell the others what she has seen and heard. Like Mary, we are sent forth to announce that the body is not in the tomb, for He is with the Father in resurrected glory.

20:19-23

Breathed on for Mission

The living Lord who came to Mary now comes to the disciples. These men are gathered in fear behind bolted doors. They are certain that sooner or later the vengeful enemies of Jesus will seek them out. Jesus had sought repeatedly to make it clear to these men that they would know the hatred of the world as He had experienced it (John 15:18, 20; 16:2; 17:14). The servant would not be greater than his master, even in persecution. And it might be coming much sooner than they expected.

How often the contemporary church finds itself behind closed doors, fearful and ineffectual, living on the wrong side of the resurrection. The problems are so vast and the enemy so overwhelming and all the talk about Jesus seems futile. What can be done but hide in the sanctuary discussing how desperate the situation is?

But then Jesus came to these men and “stood in the midst.” This was no peripheral visit, but an assurance at the center of their lives that He will be with them forever. And His first word, “Peace be with you” (v. 19), was far more than a familiar greeting. This gift of peace is the fruit of the salvation He has won on the Cross. When He showed these men the nail prints in His hands and the great wound in His side, from which water and blood came, they are “glad” (v. 20). Here is the visible evidence of the victory He shares with them in His peace.

This is not another Jesus who has come. These scars are the marks that prove the crucified Jesus is the risen Christ. These wounds are also His credentials in ministering to all suffering humanity. They are scars that the church, His body on earth, must bear if it is to continue the authentic ministry of Jesus.

Now Jesus commissions these men. As He has earlier sent Mary forth with the message of life, so He now sends these disciples. They are given the mission which the Son was given by the Father.

But they cannot begin this mission of healing and peace without the power and energy of Jesus’ risen life. So Jesus breathes on these men (v. 22). As God had breathed His life into that first man and He became a living soul, so now His Son shares the intimacy of His own life with His disciples that they may be a new humanity, recreated and empowered for their mission. As Jesus breathes on these men He says, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” This is a gift to be accepted now, a foretaste of the Person of the Holy Spirit who is yet to come and remain in them permanently after Jesus has returned to the Father.

Then these men are given the authority to continue Jesus’ “priestly” work, to carry forward His ministry of forgiveness. Jesus is the only one who can forgive; it is His blood that cleanses the sinner and sets Him free! But these who have been breathed upon are called to be a forgiving, healing people. They are given the right to speak a discerning word of power in Jesus’ name that will release the burden of sin. Wherever the breath of the risen Lord is, there is forgiveness. Jesus gives His people the boldness to speak this word in His behalf.

In a gathering of the Lord’s people, particularly in small groups, it is good to see someone share a hidden pain, anger, or wrongdoing. It has often been a heavy burden for a long time. Then those on whom Christ has breathed have interceded, given the burden to the resurrected Christ, and in His name have pronounced forgiveness and affirmation, and all have left rejoicing!

Whenever our deacons gather for prayer before serving the Lord’s Supper we ask one another if there are any present who stand in need of forgiveness, and every once in awhile there is confession and healing. These are sacred moments which have prepared us to go in to share the bread and cup with new freedom and power.

Too often the institutional church has not been “breathed on” and consequently has lacked the spiritual authority to deal with sin. Then it becomes a “do-good club” enmeshed in a maze of legalisms or simply a friendly collection of people. But there is no loosing of sin.

It is also true that the sins of those who turn from life by rejecting the invitation of the Shepherd are retained as the sins of Judas and the Jewish leaders were. The life of Jesus among His believers will reveal the hardness and rebellion of those who persist in their sinful unbelief.

This authority to speak the word of release and forgiveness or retention and judgment is not given to a spiritually elite group or to specialized clergy, but to all the people who live under the authority of the risen Christ.

20:24-29

Doubt that Becomes Confession

But there is one who was not with them on that first Sunday evening. Thomas, the twin, had missed that first encounter with Jesus. Ever the practical realist, he had been so certain they were coming to Judea to “die with Him” (11:16). So the Crucifixion was the end for Jesus as far as Thomas was concerned. Now which one of Jesus’ disciples would be next? So perhaps had Thomas hidden in fear, gone off to brood over the failure of Jesus’ whole mission, or turned back to his old ways. Whatever it was that cut Thomas off from the other disciples gave him occasion to voice his deepest doubts. Mary had failed to recognize Jesus because of her grief and Thomas had slipped away from the others because of doubt.

So when the “other disciples” seek Thomas out and declare, “We have seen the Lord,” he simply demands proof (v. 25). Unless he can see and feel Jesus’ scarred hands and wounded side, how can he be certain these others have seen anything more than a mystical apparition? I have been to the end of that road and have found it to be a lie. During seminary days I came to a point in my studies where I was desperately asking the questions of Thomas. If I could not have objective proof—seeing and handling—I would not believe. I felt, perhaps the resurrection was a subjective, existential, mystical experience rather than a historical, objective event which kindled faith. How could anyone be certain that a man of flesh who was actually dead had been raised again to life? It was a dark night. I lived with my doubts until I began to become aware that I could not explain the power of a transformed, living community of believers without knowing that Someone—an actual, living Person—had been the Source of this life and power. This compelled me to read again the New Testament accounts of Jesus’ Resurrection as a child would for the first time. I was grasped by J. B. Phillips’s Ring of Truth² and encountered the living, resurrected Lord. So I am profoundly grateful to Thomas, who saw his doubts through to the end.

We can all thank God that the “others” somehow got Thomas to come to their next “meeting” eight days later. In every generation there are those who have patiently and lovingly built relationships of trust so that they have been able to bring some honest seeker to the “meeting.” Sunday evening I was called by a new friend who excitedly reported this had been “one of the greatest days of my life.” All day long she had been guided and encouraged by people who reached out to her, first in attending a new Sunday school class, then in a glorious Palm Sunday worship service, and finally at the end of the day in one of our small neighborhood groups. Here she had dared enter into the open sharing and prayer. Someone cared and asked her, and it had been a new beginning.

Again Jesus comes to this meeting—through closed doors—and His greeting this time is, “Peace to you!” He offers to them the gift of His presence. It is as if He has come to meet personally with Thomas, to gently deal with His misgivings. And He came to him, not with words or arguments, but offering Himself. “Look and touch, Thomas.” “Do not be unbelieving, but believing” (v. 27). Jesus’ wounds are a sign of His presence. This is not an illusion or a vision, but a real Person! Thomas does not need to touch. He, too, has moved beyond sight to faith. All he can do is fall down before Jesus and cry out in adoration, “My Lord and my God!” Twice he speaks the personal “my,” showing that he speaks from a lively and earnest feeling of faith.”³

20:30-31

The Purpose

There is no way John can put in words all the works of Jesus, those signs by which the glory and character of God have been revealed, particularly in His Resurrection appearances. But he has given his readers sufficient evidence to believe that Jesus is the “Chosen One,” the very Son of God, and in believing they receive life in His name.

This is an evangelistic document in which that “name” has been lifted up. For the central issue for both Jews and Greeks throughout the writing has been the identity of Jesus. And as all men and women read and ponder and dare believe that Jesus is “I AM,” the Christ of God, they are given life. But those who turn against Jesus in unbelief are condemned to die. So there is the wondrous possibility of life in reading these words but also the great danger of rejection and death. We must read carefully and critically, for our lives depend upon how we read.