A reading from the gospel of John 20:1-2, 11-18
1 On the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb early in the morning, while it was still dark, and saw the stone removed from the tomb.
2 So she ran and went to Simon Peter and to the other disciple whom Jesus loved, and told them, “They have taken the Lord from the tomb, and we don’t know where they put him.”
11 Mary stayed outside the tomb weeping. And as she wept, she bent over into the tomb
12 and saw two angels in white sitting there, one at the head and one at the feet where the Body of Jesus had been.
13 And they said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken my Lord, and I don’t know where they laid him.”
14 When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus there, but did not know it was Jesus.
15 Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” She thought it was the gardener and said to him, “Sir, if you carried him away, tell me where you laid him, and I will take him.”
16 Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni,” which means Teacher.
17 Jesus said to her, “Stop holding on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am going to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’”
18 Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord,” and then reported what he told her.
Reflection: Why are you weeping? Stop holding on to me.
Good News: Rejoice! Jesus is Alive.
Although Jesus already mentioned his passion, death and resurrection, it did not sink in with Mary Magdalene and the other disciples. That was why she thought Jesus’ body was stolen when she saw the empty tomb. She was weeping when the risen Lord appeared to her.
Why are you weeping? This is a poignant question thrown not only to Mary Magdalene but also to us in modern times. We may have many justified reasons for weeping but we must never forget that Jesus have been raised from death to life! For that fact alone, we have reason to rejoice because we now know that death is not the end but a way through. We are now assured of victory over suffering or injustice.
“Stop holding on to me”, Jesus told Mary Magdalene. He was telling her, “Come on. I am done with my mission. I am going home to my Father and your Father. It is now your turn to continue.”
In life, we go through difficulties, disappointments, breakups and other untold sorrows. But life must go on. We rise from setbacks and be happy. We pick-up the broken pieces and continue with the journey. One of most common reasons why people are not happy is because they do not know how to move on.
Certainly, we don’t have control over our life. That is why we need to let God be in control. As they say, let go and let God. We may have strong convictions about certain things but if we let God take control, we will gain the freedom to be ourselves, corns and all.
Let us learn from Mary Magdalene, a woman of bad repute but her courage and faithfulness to Jesus gave her the privilege to be the first person to witness the resurrection. Moreover, she was given the mission to proclaim it to Jesus’ inner circle of friends. No wonder she is now a saint and she is considered as the “Apostle of the apostles”. Indeed, it does not matter what people think of us. We are sinful and weak but let us love with all our hearts and minds. That is more important than reputation.
The mission of Mary Magdalene is also our mission. Let us go, tell and show to others that Jesus is alive in our lives.
*****
We all face moments when sorrow clings to us like morning mist—heavy, cold, and unwilling to lift. Loss, confusion, betrayal, or simply the ache of uncertainty can draw tears from our hearts. In one such moment, a woman named Mary Magdalene stood outside a tomb, weeping. She had seen everything she loved seemingly vanish. The one who gave her hope, identity, and purpose was gone. Her tears flowed not just from grief but from disorientation, when the very foundation of life seems pulled out from under us.
And then comes a voice, not a thunderclap, not a dramatic miracle, but a quiet question: Why are you weeping?
It’s not a dismissal of pain but a divine invitation to look deeper. That question echoes through centuries and speaks directly to us today. Why do you weep? Is it because something you depended on has vanished? Because love feels lost, dreams seem shattered, or life hasn’t unfolded the way you expected?
Often, like that woman by the tomb, we don’t recognize hope even when it stands before us. We’re too immersed in the shadows of what we think we’ve lost. But heaven doesn’t just comfort. It transforms. The question isn’t meant to shame or rush us through grief; it’s meant to turn our gaze, gently but firmly, toward a new reality we hadn’t imagined.
Then comes another moment of tension: “Stop holding on to me.” At first glance, it sounds harsh. Why would love ever ask us to let go? But this is not rejection. It is a commissioning. It’s a call to release our grip on the past, not because it wasn’t real or meaningful, but because something greater is unfolding. Letting go is not forgetting. It is allowing love to evolve into its truer, fuller form.
So often, we cling, not just to people, but to identities, old roles, beliefs, routines, even wounds. We grasp at what was because we fear what will be. But the divine invitation is always forward, always deeper. Faith is not about preserving what was; it’s about participating in what is coming alive.
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In our lives today, these questions are deeply relevant. Whether we’re mourning the death of a loved one, the end of a relationship, or the collapse of plans we held dear, the question remains: Why are you weeping? Not to invalidate our sorrow, but to awaken us to a deeper truth: what feels like an ending may be the first breath of something new.
And when we hear, Stop holding on to me, it’s not abandonment. It’s God asking us to release control, to make space for the resurrection happening right now, even if we can’t yet see its full form.
Weeping has its place. But it is not our destination. Clinging has its moment. But it is not our calling. We are invited into transformation, into going, telling, living in the truth that death is not the final word and loss is not the end of love.
In every sorrow, listen: the Gardener is speaking your name.
*****
In the darkness of early morning, Mary Magdalene ventured to the tomb where Jesus had been laid, her heart heavy with grief. Finding the stone rolled away, she hurried to tell Simon Peter and the beloved disciple, fear and confusion gripping her. Later, as she stood outside the empty tomb weeping, she encountered angels and then, unknowingly, Jesus Himself. When He spoke her name, her sorrow turned to joy. This poignant encounter offers us profound lessons of hope, transformation, and the power of divine love.
Mary’s journey to the tomb, motivated by love and devotion, reflects our own searches in life. Often, we approach our “tombs” such as situations marked by loss, disappointment, or uncertainty, bearing the weight of our burdens. In these moments, it may seem like the darkness will never lift. Yet, the story of Mary Magdalene teaches us that even in the darkest hours, we are not abandoned. The stone was rolled away, not to let Jesus out, but to let the world see that He had risen. This miracle signifies that no barrier, however formidable, can contain the resurrection power of Christ.
Mary’s initial failure to recognize Jesus resonates with our struggles to see God’s presence in our lives, especially when we are overwhelmed by sorrow. It wasn’t until Jesus called her by name that Mary recognized Him. This intimate moment is a beautiful reminder that God knows us personally and meets us where we are. In our tears and confusion, He calls us by name, inviting us to experience His presence and peace. This personal encounter with the risen Christ transforms our despair into hope and our grief into joy.
The command Jesus gives Mary which is to go and tell the disciples of His resurrection, is a call to all believers. We are entrusted with the message of hope and new life, tasked with sharing it in a world that often feels like a perpetual Good Friday. Like Mary, we might feel inadequate or fearful, but the power of the resurrection emboldens us. Our testimony can bring light to others’ darkness, offering assurance that death is not the end, and that through Christ, all things are made new.
This gospel narrative is not merely a historical account but a living testimony of hope, love, and transformation. It challenges us to seek Jesus in our darkest moments, recognize His voice in our lives, and boldly share the message of His resurrection. Just as Mary Magdalene’s sorrow turned to joy, so can our darkest nights be transformed into mornings of radiant hope through the risen Christ.
