The Gospel today slows everything down.
Yesterday there was movement — running, reporting, decisions.
Today we stand still.
With one person.
Mary Magdalene.
She stands outside the tomb weeping.
That is where the Gospel begins.
Not with certainty.
Not with joy.
But with grief.
She looks into the tomb.
Sees the angels.
And they ask a very simple question:
“Woman, why are you weeping?”
Because as far as she understands it, everything is over.
“They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.”
Notice that.
Even after the empty tomb, she still assumes loss.
She does not jump to resurrection.
She assumes removal.
And then she turns and sees Jesus.
But she does not recognise Him.
This is important.
The resurrection is real.
Christ is there.
But she does not yet see Him for who He is.
She thinks He is the gardener.
And that detail matters.
Because in a sense, she is not entirely wrong.
The first creation began in a garden.
And it was lost.
Now, in another garden, something new has begun.
A new creation.
And Christ stands there.
But she does not recognise Him.
Why?
Because grief narrows vision.
Because expectation shapes what we see.
She is looking for a body.
So even when life stands in front of her, she does not see it.
And this is not just her problem. It is ours.
Christ can be present.
Truth can be in front of us.
Grace can be at work.
And we still fail to recognise it.
Because we are looking for something else.
And then everything changes with one word.
“Mary.”
He speaks her name.
And she recognises Him.
Not by argument.
Not by evidence laid out step by step.
But by being known.
This is how faith works.
Not just seeing.
But being called.
She turns and says: “Rabboni.” Teacher.
Now she sees.
Now she knows.
And immediately Christ gives her a mission:
“Go to my brothers and say to them…”
She came looking for a dead body.
She leaves as a witness to the resurrection.
Now place that alongside the first reading.
Peter stands up and says:
“Let all the house of Israel therefore know for certain that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified.”
And the people are cut to the heart.
They ask: “What shall we do?”
That is the right question.
Because the resurrection is not just something to observe.
It demands a response.
Peter answers: “Repent and be baptised.”
Turn.
Begin again.
Enter into what Christ has done.
And now we see the connection.
Mary hears her name and turns.
The crowd hears the truth and asks what to do.
That is always the pattern.
The resurrection is announced.
And then a response is required.
And here is the point for us.
We can be like Mary before she hears her name.
Standing close.
Looking directly.
And still not seeing.
Because we are fixed on our assumptions.
Our expectations.
Our way of understanding things.
Or we can allow Christ to call us.
To interrupt us.
To show us what is actually there.
Because the resurrection is not hidden.
But it is not always recognised.
And once it is recognised, everything changes.
Mary does not stay at the tomb.
She goes.
Peter does not stay silent.
He speaks.
The crowd does not remain passive.
They respond.
So the question is very simple.
Have we heard Christ call us?
Not in general.
Personally.
And have we responded?
Because Christianity is not only knowing that Christ is risen.
It is hearing Him call your name.
And turning.
From what you expected to what is real.
From what is finished to what has begun.
Mary came looking for death.
She found life.
And that is still what Christ does.
He meets us where we are.
Speaks our name.
And calls us into something new.
The only question is: Will we recognise Him?
And when we do— will we go?
St. Mary's, St. John Bosco and St. Edward's 