In my haughty humanity
I would have shouted "I told you so!"
to the wagging finger Pharisees,
to ambivalent Pilate and his dripping hands.
But You took a few steps out of a tomb
inhaling the fresh scents of the garden
to speak the name of a weeping woman
a social outcast who found herself alone yet again
to ask a simple question
"Why are you crying?"
and yet somehow I hear my name
tasting the salt of my own tears
as You wish us both the first
stealing our tears from grief
and handing them over to joy
Robin Hood style
as we open our eyes
to see You
just long enough to grin
fall into Your arms
and then take off running.
"In his triumph, Jesus could have paraded though the streets of Jerusalem. He could have knocked on Pilate's door. He could have confronted the high priest. But the first person our resurrected Lord appears to is a woman without hope. And the first words he speaks are, "Why are you crying?"
"What a savior we serve, or rather, who serves us. For in his hour of greatest triumph, he doesn't shout his victory from the rooftops. He comes quietly to a woman who grieves...who desperately needs to hear his voice...see his face...and feel his embrace."
Ken Gire, Moments with the Savior
"Woman," he said, "why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?"
Thinking he was the gardener, she said, "Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him."
Jesus said to her, "Mary."
She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, "Rabboni!" (which means Teacher).