The Glory of God Revealed (Part 2): Seeing the Risen Christ Who Comes to Us
The Glory of God Revealed (Part 2): Seeing the Risen Christ Who Comes to Us
By Jonathan A. Powers
In my last article, I reflected on the glory of God revealed in the resurrection of Jesus Christ, the decisive moment in which death is defeated and new creation breaks into the world. Yet, as we linger a bit longer on the nature of His glory, Scripture invites us to move beyond the event itself and into the encounters that follow it. In these post-resurrection moments, we begin to see that God’s glory is not merely something proclaimed, but something seen, experienced, and personally encountered. John 20, in particular, presents two powerful scenes: Mary in the garden and the disciples in the upper room. Each of these accounts help us understand what the glory of God looks like when it meets us in our deepest need.
MARY (JOHN 20:11–18)
John’s Gospel opens this post-resurrection scene with Mary Magdalene standing outside the tomb of Jesus on Easter morning. She is weakened and weeping, overcome with sorrow. She has come to visit Jesus in the tomb, but His body has disappeared. Fearing that someone has taken Him away, she is left distraught, grieving not only His death, but now even the loss of His body. And yet, even in death, her longing is clear: she simply wants to be in His presence, in the presence of the One who, in His life, had made Himself so fully present to her.
Mary comes to the garden on this Easter morning worn by Good Friday and wearied by Holy Saturday. Her only desire is to see and to tend to the crucified body of her Lord. However, what she does not yet realize is that, in that very garden, at that very grave, she will not find a body to tend, but a Savior who has come to tend to her. She had come to attend to His body, but He was already there, ready to attend to her soul.
As the passage unfolds, Mary turns away from the empty tomb in her sorrow and encounters a figure standing before her in the garden. We know this figure to be Jesus, but she does not recognize Him. Instead, she assumes Him to be a gardener. And in a profound sense, she is not entirely wrong. For it was in a garden long ago that all creation was made through Him, and now, in this garden of resurrection, the firstfruits of new creation are being brought forth in Him. Here stands the true Gardener, about to reveal the glory of God in a way Mary does not yet expect.
Seeing her in her distress, Jesus asks, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?” Still unaware of who He is, Mary replies, “Sir, if you have carried Him away, tell me where you have laid Him, and I will take Him away.”
Mary’s response is striking. Three times she uses the word “him,” yet she never speaks the name “Jesus.” She assumes that this gardener will know exactly whom she is seeking, as if there were no other reason to be in that place, and no other person who could possibly matter.
Of course, Jesus knows why Mary has come. She has come seeking Him. What she does not yet understand is that He has already come seeking her. She is searching for a dead and defeated body, but He stands before her in resurrected glory, ready to reveal Himself.
In her sorrow, Mary cannot recognize Him, nor can she even speak His name. But in His compassion, Jesus reveals Himself with a single word, her name: “Mary.” Like a shepherd calling his sheep, His voice breaks through her grief. In that moment, she sees. “Rabbouni!” she cries; “Teacher!” And what a fitting confession, for in that moment Mary is being taught how to see the glory of the risen Christ. She is learning to perceive not only with her physical eyes, but with the eyes of faith the God who has come to her in her need.
It is worth remembering that Mary had been among the last to see Jesus at the cross. Now she is the first to see Him at the resurrection. She becomes the first witness to the God who comes to rescue, not only in life, but even through death itself. She had seen Him crucified, and now, in her grief, she encounters Him in His risen glory.
THE DISCIPLES (JOHN 20:19–29)
From the garden, John immediately shifts our attention to another scene, this time to the disciples gathered behind locked doors. The contrast between them and Mary is striking. While Mary remained near Jesus through His suffering, the disciples had betrayed, denied, and abandoned Him in His final hours. While Mary sought Him at the tomb, the disciples hide in fear.
Like Mary, they are filled with sorrow and uncertainty. The one they had hoped would rescue them had died. They have heard rumors that the tomb is empty and whispers that He may be alive, but they do not know what to believe. And so they remain behind closed doors, confused, fearful, and directionless, like sheep without a shepherd.
It is into this very space that Jesus comes.
Without warning, He appears among them, standing in their midst despite the locked doors. One can only imagine the mixture of shock and fear that filled the room. These were the men who had abandoned Him. What would He say? Had He come to rebuke them? To judge them?
Instead, Jesus speaks the very word they most need to hear: “Peace.”
He then shows them His hands and His side. In doing so, He reveals His crucified body, lest they forget what the world, and even their own failure, had done to Him. Yet He does not show them His wounds to condemn them or to exact retribution. Rather, He shows them His wounds to reveal His glory, the glory of the crucified and risen Christ who has come to their rescue.
This moment is essential. The disciples needed to see not only that Jesus was alive, but how He had brought about their salvation. Unlike Mary, they needed to see both the resurrection and the cross together. They needed to see His scars.
For it is in those scars that the fullness of God’s glory is revealed: the depth of His love, the extent of His mercy, and the completeness of His rescue. Only by seeing what He endured could they begin to understand the hope of His resurrection. Only by receiving His mercy could they be sent into the world as witnesses of that glory.
CONCLUSION
One of the great and beautiful mysteries of the Christian faith is that the risen Jesus still bears His scars. We might assume that resurrection would mean the removal of all marks of suffering, a kind of perfection defined by worldly standards of beauty. But perhaps such assumptions reveal more about our own limited vision than about the glory of God.
For what if true beauty is not found in the absence of wounds, but in the love that endured them?
If Jesus still bears the scars of the nails and the spear, might He also bear the marks of the crown of thorns? The wounds of the scourging? The bruises of the beating? The weight of the cross? And if so, what does that mean for how we understand His glorified body?
Perhaps the glory of Christ is not the polished image we so often imagine. Perhaps it is something far more profound, a wounded beauty marked by sacrifice and love. Perhaps the fullness of His glory is seen not merely in power, but in the Lamb who looks as though He has been slain.
Could this be why Mary did not recognize Him at first? Why the disciples on the road to Emmaus failed to see Him? Could it be that to truly behold the glory of God, we must learn to see both the crucified and the risen Christ, the One who still bears the marks of His rescue?
And when we do see Him rightly, perhaps the only fitting response is the same as Thomas: “My Lord and my God!”
This is one reason why as Christians, the regular celebration of the Eucharist matters so deeply. At the Table, Jesus reorients our vision so that we might behold His glory. Mary and the disciples saw Him with their physical eyes, but through that sight they were given the eyes of faith. And we, though we do not see Him in the same way, are called “blessed” because we believe.
In the Eucharist, we encounter the crucified and risen Christ. We behold His broken body and His shed blood. We taste and see the extent of God’s rescue. And we are drawn into His life as we await the day when we will see Him face-to-face.
Until that day, may our eyes remain fixed on Him, the crucified and risen Christ, the One who comes to us, who rescues us, and who reveals the fullness of God’s glory.
