The Christmas narratives in the Bible are unique, but not conflicted like the resurrection narratives.

Yes, we typically conflate the timeline by placing the Matthean magi who arrived from somewhere in the distant darkness bearing gifts alongside the Lukan shepherds who arrived from somewhere in the proximate darkness bearing nothing but amazement.

Yet, there is nothing as awkward and august as the resurrection accounts in the Gospels, which leave the attentive reader wondering, “What really happened that day?” Based on the Gospel narratives, no one is certain.

Who went to the tomb that day?

Mark says three women went — Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Salome. This seems simple enough, until we read Matthew and Luke, which disagree with both Mark and one another.

Matthew says there were only two women (Mary Magdalene and “the other Mary”), while Luke says a whole crowd showed up (Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James and several other women whose names are not disclosed).

Finally, in conflict with all these suggestions, John’s gospel says there was only one woman (Mary Magdalene), soon followed by Peter and the “beloved disciple.”

For some reason, the Gospels are all quite certain that Mary Magdalene was present, but who went with her is debatable.

Whoever went to the tomb that morning, what was their motivation?

Mark says the women went to anoint Jesus’ body with spices, and Luke agrees. However, Matthew says that they simply went to see the tomb, to look at it, to take pictures — not with cameras, of course, but with their minds.

By the time we get to John’s Gospel, all such speculation is avoided, and we are only told that they went while it was still dark — seemingly a metaphor for the darkness of death, suffering and grief, the darkness within and without, the darkness of life itself at times.

All four Gospels agree that the tomb visit was in the early hours of the morning, but they disagree on why.

Whatever the reason for their trip, what happened when they arrived?

Each writer is certain that the visitor(s) found the stone rolled away and the tomb empty. However, they differ on how to make this discovery seem spectacular enough.

Like four playwrights arguing over the culminating scene of an epic drama, each Gospel adds its own flair that would turn into a Mel Brooks-esque comedy if you combined all four accounts in one scene.

Mark recalls that the women went into the tomb where they encountered a young man dressed in white who told them not to be afraid. The women are commissioned to go and tell the other disciples, but they leave and don’t tell anyone because they’re afraid.

Matthew says an earthquake occurred while the women were on their way – though, strangely, they don’t seem to notice or perhaps they bravely kept walking with the ground heaving under their feet.

To heighten the drama, Matthew turns Mark’s “young man” into “an angel of the LORD” who rolls the stone away and then sits on it. When the women arrive, the angel gives the same instructions — do not fear; go and tell — but then Jesus suddenly shows up on the scene with a bright, beaming smile on his face. And, of all the many things we might expect him to say in that moment, Jesus simply says, “Hello!” as if he had just bumped into some friends at the supermarket and wanted to chat.

Luke sticks a bit closer to Mark, adding his own bit of style. In the tomb, there is neither a young man nor an angel of the LORD, but two ordinary men in unordinary clothing who ask: “Why do you look for the living among the dead?”

The women flee the tomb in joy to tell others, not in silence and dread as in Mark.

And the fourth gospel? John gives us a lot more detail than the rest. There is a flurry of activity in which two angels show up, followed by an appearance of Jesus to Mary who mistakes him for a gardener.

Then, we read several encounters between the risen Jesus and various gatherings of his disciples before John finally gives up trying to tell everything that happened and ends his story by saying that there is simply too much to tell.

We could keep probing the various details of these texts, but we would only find ourselves more and more astounded at the divergences and disparities. The truth is, the Gospels simply don’t agree on the details of what took place that day; but whatever else happened, they all agree that Jesus was no longer dead.

Jesus was somehow alive, out there in the world once again, and although, at first glance, he didn’t exactly look like himself anymore, he seemed exactly like himself upon closer inspection.

The resurrected Jesus looked like a gardener whose compassionate voice transformed him into Jesus for Mary. He looked like a stranger walking in a graveyard who became Jesus when he greeted the women with a simple, “hello.”

He looked like a lonely traveler on a journey between villages whose table fellowship transformed him into Jesus for two grieving disciples. And he looked like a group of disciples gathered to remember and grieve that suddenly found that the Jesus who was present in their memories was also present in their community and communion.

No matter how divergent and conflicting the memories of that day are, the Gospels agree that the tomb was empty and that Jesus kept showing up in the most unexpected places and in the most surprising ways.

The earliest followers of Jesus somehow encountered him even after his death, which suggests that if we will allow ourselves to look beyond the literal, beyond the concrete, beyond the surface, beyond what we expect to see, perhaps we too can encounter the risen Jesus in a variety of ways:

• Through the compassionate words of welcome that we give and receive.
• In our journey through life in which we encounter other pilgrims who become our friends and travelling companions as we break bread together.
• Through speaking each other’s names in friendship and love, and in all the other ways we choose to share our lives with one another.

Perhaps, we will come to see the risen Christ in the people around us, and, if we’re lucky, even in ourselves every now and then.

That Jesus is risen and present in the world somehow is the essential point on which all four Gospels agree. And for those with eyes that dare to see and hearts that dare to believe, the glad news of the Gospels is that we may encounter the risen Christ when and where we least expect.

Editor’s note: This is the final article in a “Lenten Lectionary” series for Lent 2023. Each week, an article was published reflecting on one or more of the lectionary texts for the forthcoming Sunday. The previous articles in the series are:

Lenten Lectionary | Kenosis as the Self-Giving Love of God in Christ by James Gordon

Lenten Lectionary | We Are Collaborators by Aurelia Dávila Pratt

Lenten Lectionary | I Shall Not Want? by Danielle L Bridgeforth

Lenten Lectionary | Expectations and Reality by Margot Hodson

Lenten Lectionary | Good News for Those Who Have Trouble Sleeping by Junia Joplin

Lenten Lectionary | Through the Wastelands by Christopher B. Harbin

Lenten Lectionary | Set Your Plow Deeper: An Ash Wednesday Meditation by Ken Sehested