The Things They Felt

By Michael Peat

These thoughts came to me as I read a book recently published called ‘The Things He Said,’ by Stephen Cottrell (currently Bishop of Reading). The book is a series of reflections on the first words Jesus says after his resurrection, words that Cottrell suggests repay careful attention. But it seems to me that Cottrell is as interested in the feelings of the characters who first met Jesus on that first Easter day, notably Mary Magdalene and the disciples on the road to Emmaus, as he is about what Jesus said to them.

In fact, what his book brings to light is that the things he said and the things they felt are inextricably linked: The risen Jesus’ first words are full of pastoral power. They get to the heart of the emotions of those followers to whom he first appears, give space for their feelings to be voiced, and then transforms them.

Cottrell begins by imagining Mary Magdalene’s thoughts as dawn broke on the Sunday morning, reminding us that Easter begins not with joy, but with despair and confusion. ‘Why’ questions hang in the air in the Easter story as told in John’s gospel: Why did such a wondrous life end with a shameful death? Why is the stone rolled away? Despair gives way to confusion, as Mary discovers two angels sitting where Jesus’ body should have been (John 20 v 12).

In this moment, full of unanswered questions and dark fears, Jesus comes to Mary not with answers but with questions: “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom do you seek?” He comes anonymously, appearing so ordinary that she assumes he is the gardener. Jesus’ question and his anonymity give Mary space to voice her feelings of anguish.

Even now, after Jesus has died, Mary feels helpless. Unable even to complete the humble service of anointing her Lord’s broken body, she appears totally sidelined. Events have left Mary feeling powerless, but Jesus invites her to have her say. Then he calls her by her name. Jesus affirms for Mary that she is ‘someone.’ She has uniqueness and worth. It is at this moment that she recognises who it is who has empowered her. Confusion and helplessness are replaced with wonder and hope.

Cottrell’s other main source of reflection on the risen Jesus’ first words is Luke’s gospel (Luke 24). Here, Jesus first appears to two disheartened disciples on a journey from Jerusalem to Emmaus. Again, his first words are not a triumphant announcement but an inviting question: “what are you discussing as you walk along?” Again, Jesus remains unrecognised, so that his question allows these two travellers to say what they really feel.

They relay the events surrounding Jesus’ death as they see them, admitting to despondency (“we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel”) and confusion because of rumours that the tomb was empty and their Lord was alive. Jesus walks alongside them, literally and spiritually, revealing through conversation a different way of understanding all that has happened. By appearing to be travelling further than they, Jesus gives these men an opportunity to invite him into their house for a meal.

They make the offer that would lead to that moment of breathtaking recognition as Jesus breaks bread in front of them. When they first met Jesus, these men were walking away from Jerusalem, leaving their hopes behind. But afterwards, on that very same night, they rush back to Jerusalem to share their joy with the other disciples.

As Cottrell points out, the risen Jesus’ first words remind us that his resurrection asks as many questions as it answers. Amongst other things, it asks us to be frank about our thoughts and feelings, not so that we may be pricked by shame, but so that our fears may be overturned as we recognise the empowering presence of the risen Lord.

So when Easter comes, take time to read and reflect on the various Gospel accounts of the risen Jesus’ first words. Put yourself in the shoes of those who hear these words breaking through the darkness of their despair, and feel the joy they bring.