Videos from Fr Claudio Doglio
Original voice in italian, with subtitles in English, Spanish, Portuguese & Cantonese
Encountering the Risen Lord
Now, where he had been crucified, there was a garden, and in the garden a new tomb where no one had yet been buried. The account of the passion, according to John, ends in a garden just as it began—where Jesus was handed over. Joseph of Arimathea, a disciple of Jesus but not openly because he feared the Jews, along with Nicodemus, who had come to Jesus at night and was also afraid, now stepped forward openly. They took a brave step. They asked for Jesus’ body. They took Jesus down from the cross to prevent a mass grave. Otherwise, his body would end up in a common grave, and they would lose complete control of his remains. But these two dared to stand up and gave Jesus an honorable burial.
Nicodemus even brought a substantial amount of myrrh and aloe for a royal burial. A large quantity of aromatic oil to anoint Jesus’s body is placed in this new tomb, a special tomb where no one has been laid before. Jesus is the first to inaugurate a new world.
The scene takes place right here in this garden near the new grave. The day of the Sabbath isn’t mentioned, nor is the preparation (Parasceve). The vigil, the Greek word for Friday, marks the day Jesus died and was buried. On that Sabbath, everything was at a halt; it was the major Passover feast. It was forbidden to do any work; even moving around was minimal. They only move on the morning of the first day of the week. John shows only one woman in the scene, Mary of Magdala, who arrived at the tomb early in the morning, while it was still dark.
Note the contrast. If it is morning, it means light has appeared, but darkness still exists; if it is dark, it is still night… it is not ‘morning.’ This is one of many symbolic details about time and weather conditions that John describes. The physical light of morning has arrived, but it remains dark within Mary Magdalene’s heart, mind, and soul. She reached the tomb only to weep, to remember the dead, and not to anticipate the coming Resurrection.
She is surprised when she discovers the open tomb and realizes the body is missing. She could have imagined the Resurrection, but she didn’t expect it or even think about it. She still thinks in a human and earthly way. Since the body is absent, she immediately assumes that someone has taken it; she believes the enemies have taken him and has no idea where they have kept him. Terrified, she runs to the disciples to warn them: “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we don’t know where they have put him!”
A plural verb is used here: “… we don’t know,” which indicates she was not alone. There were other women, and the Synoptics mention a group of women who went to the tomb on the morning of the resurrection. John chooses one person to highlight her symbolic role as a representation of the new humanity. The Gospel of John provides no details about Mary Magdalene. Other Gospels also do not say that she was a sinner. This is an incorrect way of identifying multiple individuals in the Synoptic narratives.
Mary Magdalene is depicted here as the quintessential disciple—someone who loves Jesus, seeks Him, and finally finds Him. She is the woman who encounters the new Adam in the garden on the first day of the week. This evokes a symbolic allusion. This Johannine account invites us to make interpretive leaps to understand its depth. Mary of Magdala signifies a new humanity that still needs light; she remains in darkness, lacking understanding.
The two disciples, Simon Peter and the beloved disciple—the one Jesus loved (who is always unnamed)—leave for the tomb. We have already seen him at the Last Supper, at the foot of the cross, and now at the empty tomb on the morning of the resurrection in this third significant scene. This disciple ran faster than Peter and arrived first but did not enter the tomb. He stops and waits for Peter. These details are important. The beloved disciple represents the charismatic Church and the great spiritual example: faster, more emotional, reaching first, while Peter symbolizes the institutional Church; he is the authority who arrives later. The charisma that leads the way waits, allowing the institution to enter first.
They observe the linen. John describes the burial clothes in detail. He explains to the reader how the disciples’ linens were arranged in that significant moment. We note that none of the evangelists narrates the Resurrection of Jesus. No one describes the event, but what is said reflects what was seen, and from that indication, the Resurrection event is recognized. The empty tomb and the linen are arranged in a specific way, and, most importantly, the encounter with the Risen Lord and the disciples’ transformation demonstrate that Christ is risen.
Therefore, the evangelist, using the specific details of the linen wrappings, describes them as being ‘loosely empty.’ He uses a common Greek word, ‘ὀθόνια’ – ‘ozonia’ – which means ‘linen cloths.’ Imagine the old, thick linen sheets. These were the white funeral linens, something special—not bedding. They were used exclusively for burial, measuring about one meter high and four meters wide. The body was placed on top of it, and the cloth was wrapped around the head, descending over it. As a result, the cloth became attached to the body. Nicodemus’s perfume, containing 30 kilos of myrrh and aloe, was used to hold the linen cloth in place, making it stick to the body.
Imagine, then, the linen’s consistency now soaked in the ointment. It takes the shape of the body, forming a single piece of cloth that encloses it. It is sealed with laces at the neck, waist, and ankles. Lazarus emerges from the tomb with his hands and feet bound and all the wrappings of funeral clothes. In contrast, Jesus left everything intact in the grave. The only specific detail that John adds is that these ‘ὀθόνια’ = clothes were ‘κείμενον’ – keimenon = lying – loosely empty. Nothing was removed. Nothing was moved. Only the clothes lay there deflated because the body inside had disappeared.
Unlike Lazarus, who emerges with his flesh as before, he returns to his earthly life and continues it, aging and dying again. However, the Risen Jesus disappears. A transformation occurs—something beyond explanation. The body of Christ remains intact, yet it is no longer there. The linen cloth deflates, except for the ‘sudarium’ placed around his head. ‘Sudarium’ is a general term for our ‘napkin.’ Imagine a large, square napkin folded into a triangle, wrapped, and placed under the deceased’s chin and over the head to settle the face and keep the mouth closed. This simple, fundamental method—still familiar today—is used to preserve the shape of a dead person, especially one who died in that condition and by asphyxiation.
The scroll wrapped in that cloth didn’t move. It stayed right where it was, ‘in uno loco,’ with no shifting—yet it created a sense of thickness and depth. The strange effect John observed was that the linen cloths were all in their places but appeared deflated. It looked as if the head was swollen because, on the head’s part, the cloth was puffed up and bloated, with the linen cloth rolled up in the same spot. The Italian translation has improved significantly over the previous incorrect version, but it has not yet been fully accepted. For example, in this passage, they attempted to translate it as ‘in a separate place,’ but it would be better to say it remained in the same place, exactly where it was. (Ed. In English: “The cloth was still lying in its place, separate from the linen” NABRE).
Finally, the disciple Jesus loved also went inside. He saw and believed. As a witness of the burial, he observed the condition of the funeral clothes and believed in Jesus’ Resurrection, recognizing that no one would remove the body, leaving the linen and other garments as they were. All these details help us understand the sign and the key indications of the Resurrection. The clothes left like that serve as a declaration of the Resurrection.
The two disciples headed home, while Mary of Magdala stayed crying at the tomb. She hasn’t yet come to faith in the Risen Lord, but she still holds onto her belief. She has no reason to cry, but she’s convinced Jesus is dead and that his body has been taken away, so she continues to weep. Then, an unfamiliar person surprises her. Jesus calls her and asks,“Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?”
This is a significant question we find at the start of the Gospel. The first words Jesus speaks in John’s Gospel are: “What do you seek?” Later, in the garden during his arrest, he asks those coming to seize him: “Whom are you looking for?” After the Resurrection, the first question the evangelist attributes to Jesus is: “Who is it you are looking for?” Notice both the similarity and the difference. The word in the neuter (what) shifts to the personal (who), and the plural form turns into singular. This marks a crucial moment. Once again, Jesus uses the term ‘woman.’ Woman, who is it you are looking for?” We have seen the woman—faithful Israel—the mother, the Samaritan woman representing humanity in religious error—the adulterous woman, mankind cut off from God—and now, we observe the woman of Easter’s renewal.
Once again, the symbolic feminine figure is an iconic representation of humanity. She mistook him for the gardener, who tends the garden. She is mistaken because Jesus is not a gardener. However, symbolically, she is correct if we understand ‘garden’ as a symbol of the origin of humanity’s fellowship with God. Jesus is the keeper of that garden, preserving and cultivating the friendship with God. Now, he offers the opportunity to restore that communion that was initially lost. “She said, ‘Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.'” And he calls her by name, simply, with a gentle tone that softly reproves her. He says, ‘Mary.’ It is clear that He recognizes her, and she recognizes Him and calls him ‘Rabboni,’ my Teacher. Jesus prevents her, “Don’t hold on to me.” Don’t think that I have not yet ascended, and don’t assume that I have returned to resume my previous life.
By now, a new phase has begun—a new reality, a new creation. Go to your brothers and announce all that you have seen. She runs to the apostles as an evangelist, saying, “I have seen the Lord.” This experience has changed her life. She signaled the birth of a new humanity. Mary of Magdala is the image of paschal humanity.
John narrates that on the same evening, the Risen Lord is present in the upper room where all the disciples are gathered, even though the doors were closed for fear of the Jews. The risen Lord is among them and greets them with peace—shalom—a standard Jewish greeting. But in this case, this greeting means much more. It signifies the messianic peace and the fulfillment of complete well-being. “I leave you peace, my peace I leave you,” he said in the same place before his death. Now, he brings peace, good days, and new well-being. He then shows the signs of the passion—not the wounds, but the healed scars and marks of deadly wounds. These scars are signs of past suffering, but they are no longer a threat. This victory over death is permanent, and he leaves the signs forever. Death has been completely overcome. The disciples rejoice in seeing the Lord.
At this moment, Jesus performs a powerful gesture. He breathes on them. John uses the same verb found in Genesis, where the Lord God breathes on the clay to make it a living being. In Jesus, God carries out the work of new creation; it is the gift of the Holy Spirit. He gave up His Spirit on the cross. Now, on Easter, He breathes and says, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit.’ For John, death and resurrection are one event. It is the single Paschal mystery from which the gift of the Spirit emerges—the life of God that empowers the disciples to carry onJesus’ work: forgiving sins. The Holy Spirit enables the disciples to communicate God’s forgiveness to the whole world.
The work of Jesus is carried out through the Church by the Holy Spirit, given by Jesus,who is the truth, dead, and Risen. The single Paschal mystery conveys the gift of the Spirit of life.