It had been a dramatic end of the week. One of those days that you can never forget. One of those days that seem endless, like a nightmare from which you want to wake up but cannot - because it is not a nightmare.
But for Mary and the disciples it must have felt like a nightmare.
In the night between Thursday and Friday they had arrested Jesus thanks to the betrayal of one of their own. They had chained him, and taken him straight away to appear before the Sanhedrin, secretly. Everything was organized, including the presence of false witnesses attempting to bring forth false accusations. Yet, he simply stood there, silently, not even uttering a word in his defense.
They hurled insults at him, spat on him, beat him ruthlessly. But from his mouth, not a word.
It must have been heartbreaking following Jesus from afar during that night of commotion. First before the High Priest, then the Sanhedrin, then to Pilate; from Pilate to Herod and back to Pilate. Like a package everyone wants to get rid of but no one wants to be responsible for. 
It must have been heartbreaking to experience the roller-coaster of emotions; the hope that maybe, in this madness, someone is going to realize that this arrest is a big mistake. Maybe Herod. Maybe Pilate. Maybe someone in authority is going to step up and say, "enough of that. This man has done nothing. Let him go.”
It must have been heartbreaking being surrounded by a crowd yelling to the top of their lungs, "Crucify Him! Crucify Him!” and really, for no reason. Such hatred; such anger. For no reason.
It must have been heartbreaking to see the beloved Master be nailed to the cross. It must have been heartbreaking to see the mocking, the suffering, the loneliness. It must have been heartbreaking to be there, and see Jesus die without being able to do anything or say anything.
It had been a dramatic end of the week. The man they loved and in whom they hoped had died. And with him all of their hopes, all of their plans, all of their dreams.

Consequently, it had been a very lonely Sabbath. Yes - they did participate in the celebration. Yes - they did go through the motions. But they were numb. Nothing really mattered at that point. Especially for Mary. All she wanted was for Sunday morning to come as soon as possible so at least she could go to the place of Jesus' burial and do what she did not have a chance to do at Golgotha – say a proper goodbye and serve the now deceased Master for one last time. So, late in the evening she quietly prepares a mix of expensive and fragrant spices. She would finish the job of preparing His body for burial and see that face one final time.
Sunday morning finally came. She had slept a little and woke up early to do what faithful women of all ages have always done - serve diligently and without clamour while no one else is awake.
Yet, there is still one question unanswered in her mind. How is she going to get into the tomb?  Roman soldiers had been set to guard it from the outside. Maybe she could simply ask them to roll the stone away for her. Unfortunately, Roman soldiers were not known for their kindness. But maybe if they saw her passion and determination they would be kind to her and allow this solemn act of love.
The night air was cold and damp as she walked towards the garden cemetery. She knew exactly where the tomb was. Plus, it would be difficult to mistake it. It was a new tomb just chiselled out of the rock face.
As she approached the spot, her blood ran cold and her stomach turned inside her. The tomb had been broken open, and the guards had fled. There seemed to be no end to this nightmare. Who could add such insult to an already cruel and unjustified death! Could they not even leave his dead body alone? Who would profane His grave? How could hatred and anger against him continue even after his death?
She was heartbroken. Again.
Weeping and stumbling she turned and ran into the city, to the house where Peter was, with the other men. Choking on her tears she blurted out the news to them that the Lord's body was missing.
Out of anger or disbelief Peter and John ran to the tomb, the swifter John getting there first. They found things just to be as Mary had said - the tomb had been opened and the body gone.
Curiously, however, the death cloths had been peeled off His body and carefully laid aside. The head cloth was even rolled up. No grave robber would have taken the time to do this! What could this mean?  Confused and powerless, they walked slowly away, maybe even feeling guilty about their inability to prevent this final insult to Jesus. Not knowing what to do, they simply went home.

But Mary didn't go home. She stayed. She did not want to go anywhere else. She simply wanted to be alone with her pain - this explosive inner sense of emptiness. All she wanted to do is weep. All she could do is weep. Jesus was gone, and nothing made sense.
Chances are, some of us - maybe even all of us - know very well how Mary might have felt. We all know the heavy feelings, the emptiness, the powerlessness connected to the loss of a dear person. The bitter sense of remorse; that torturing voice that says we could have done more, said more, loved more; and now it's too late.
Distraught, Mary bent down and peeked into the empty tomb. And she saw two angels sitting where Jesus should have been laid. I did not think she realized this was a supernatural encounter. Her pain was too intense and her mind was set solely on the one goal of finding the body of Jesus, so she could say farewell once and forever. When asked about the reason of her weeping, she said plainly, "Because they have taken away my Lord and I do not know where they have put him.”
Suddenly, she realizes someone is standing right behind her. And right here, at this point, we read the most surprising thing. Jesus himself is standing right behind her – which means he is alive. Amazing news! And the other surprising thing – Mary does not recognize him.
Can you see the irony? Here is Mary, looking desperately for Jesus. She has been broken-hearted over his death. She has been broken-hearted over the fact that she cannot find the body. She is willing to go to great lengths to recover the body. She is even willing to go wherever and fetch the corpse on her own. She is so sure Jesus is dead; so sure his body has been hidden; so sure of her own frame of reference that although Jesus is right behind her, talking to her, very alive, she does not realize it.
This reminds me of a story I was telling my students not too long ago. Karl Barth, probably the greatest theologian of the 20th century, was on a streetcar one day in Basel, Switzerland. A tourist to the city climbed on and sat down next to Barth. The two men started chatting with each other. "Are you new to the city?" Barth inquired. "Yes," said the tourist. "Is there anything you would particularly like to see in this city?" asked Barth. "Oh yes," he said, "I'd love to meet the famous theologian Karl Barth. Do you know him?" Barth, with his typical sense of humour, replied, "Well as a matter of fact, I do. I give him a shave every morning." The tourist got off the streetcar quite delighted. He went back to his hotel telling everyone that he had met Karl Barth's barber.
Sounds funny, doesn't it? You look hard for something, and it's right before your eyes, and you don't realize it. You look hard for God, and He is right there with you, and you don't realize it. Very ironic, and also very human.
Mary is not the only one who had an encounter with God, and did not quite realize it. The Bible is full of stories of people who had incredible encounters with God, and at the time were quite clueless that something amazing was happening. Only later on they were able to say, "Surely the LORD is in this place, and I wasn’t even aware of it!” (Gen 28:16)
Quite ironic, isn't it? So much of human life and history is a quest to find God. So many religions, so many different books, so many different ways. Humans seem to take for granted that meeting God is a rather complex thing – something we need to work hard at. This story seems to suggest that the irony is that while we spend our lives looking hard for Him, we miss the fact that He is right near us.
In fact, I must confess that I look at Mary, and I see myself. I see myself and all those times that I have looked for God everywhere; I have looked hard; I was ready to do the impossible to see him and touch him and hear from him. And I did not succeed, although I am sure Jesus was right there, talking to me.
I see myself and all those times when my pain and my loneliness have made me cry out to God for help, apparently to no avail. Yet, I was probably too focused on what I was feeling inside of me that I could not feel the touch or hear the voice of the One I was calling to. Although I am sure, Jesus was right there, talking to me and wiping the tears.
I see myself and all those times when I was so sure of my own convictions; I was so sure I was right in my judgement; I was so sure my frame of reference was right, that I could not see God at work. And that is because when I use my frame of reference, I assume I am more competent than God to decide what He should do, and where and when He should do it. And so, while I was busy "being right”, God was present and at work right next to me, and I completely missed it. And it was only later that I could say, "Surely the LORD was in this place, and I wasn’t even aware of it!”
I look at Mary, and I see myself – a human being with a history of missing out on meeting with God.
I am wondering who you see when you look at Mary. I am wondering if you too, right now, are thinking of the times when God was there, and you missed it. Or maybe for the first time in your life today you have found the answer. "That's what it was! I could never understand why I felt this way. Now I know. God was with me, and I wasn't even aware of that!”

Now – wouldn't it be wonderful if today, maybe for the first time in our lives, we may realize that God is not this distant being impossible to reach – but rather a familiar presence, right here and right now?
Wouldn't it be wonderful if today we could put our past behind us – if we could forget about all those times we have failed to see God – and actually finally meet with the Risen Christ faced to face? 
Wouldn't it be wonderful if God was in this place? Just to meet with us; just to call us by name; just because we have come today, looking for Him.
And wouldn't it be terrible, if once again, we were focused on something else and missed this chance?

Yes, we humans have the tendency of not recognizing God when he is near. For many of us, this is indeed our story – a story of missed chances. But the past does not need to determine our future. On this Easter morning the Risen Christ can open our eyes, just like he opened the eyes of Mary – so that we may see with her that with God the impossible is very much possible.
On this Easter morning we can see reality in a way that we have never seen before, and finally live the life that we have always wanted but have never been able to live before – a life built on a fact that does not make any sense – but it is life-transforming: Jesus died and came back to life. And he came back to life so that he can be near each one of us, every moment of our lives. Because he lives, we too can truly live.
The event that turns things around for Mary is that Jesus called her by name. All of the distress caused by the death of Jesus, all of the tears shed over his [supposedly] stolen body are wiped away by one word: "Mary”
When Jesus calls her name, she understands there is no reason to look for a body. Jesus has come back to life. He is alive. And to some extent, now Mary is alive too.

It may very well be this morning that you are tired of missing chances and are thirsty for Jesus to call your name. It may very well be this morning that like Mary, you are very ready to throw yourself at his feet in worship; you are ready to cling to Him and never let him go. It may very well be this morning that you are ready to understand Easter in a brand new way – it's not about coloured eggs, and kulichi, and holy fire. Easter is about the new life that God wants to give us. Christ is risen! He is alive! And He is here! Let's not waste this chance to meet with Him and receive the life He wants to give us. Can you hear him calling you by name?

After the encounter at the empty tomb, Mary went back to the disciples and said to them. "I have seen the Lord”. And you – who have you seen today?