The resurrection stories in Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John are among the strangest stories in all of the literature of the world, even among the strangest stories in the Bible. That is true of each Gospel’s accounts individually, but even more of the collection as a whole. On the one hand, the four Gospel accounts represent the testimony of eye-witnesses — straightforward testimony without the kind of theological commentary that we might expect of a resurrection story, the kind of theological commentary that is typical of the rest of the New Testament. The apostle Paul, in particular, in virtually every letter he writes, reflects on the significance of Jesus’ resurrection for Christian thought and life. He does indeed recount the history of Jesus’ resurrection and appearance to the disciples (1 Corinthians 15:1-8), but even here his perspective is remarkably different from that of the Gospel accounts, remarkable because among other things, though Paul, too, emphasizes the historicity of the resurrection, his account is much less strange.
What is so strange about the Gospel stories? To begin with, we have four records of eyewitness’ accounts — though Mark and Luke are not themselves eyewitnesses.1 Mark’s Gospel has traditionally and correctly, I believe, been seen as dependent on Peter’s eyewitness testimony and Luke — assuming he was not, as Wenham argues2, an eyewitness, — has researched and put together material from eyewitnesses (Luke 1:1-43). Matthew and John were both among the original apostolic band to whom Jesus presented Himself alive after the resurrection. One might expect, therefore, a great deal of overlap among them and that the partial stories in each of the Gospels could be easily woven into a single multifaceted and beautifully patterned cloth. If that is what we might naturally expect, we would be very wrong. John Wenham took about 200 pages and many maps to try to put the stories together into a single description of the events connected with Jesus’ resurrection. His speculative reconstruction of the stories is highly complex, but is plausible enough that his book, Easter Enigma, is widely respected.4
What is especially remarkable about the diversity of the accounts is the fact that after Pentecost, most, if not all the apostles stayed in Jerusalem for a significant period, even after the persecution of the church began with the murder of Stephen (Acts 8:1). Though at some point, the apostles also traveled and left Jerusalem at least temporarily (consider Peter and John, for example, in Acts 8:14 and following), the apostles had ample opportunity to talk together about Jesus’ life, works and teaching, their own plans to teach others, and so forth. In other words, our four Gospels were not written by men who had not extensively spoken together and known each other well. The story of Jesus — His words and works — was the center of their fellowship the whole time they were in Jerusalem together and as often as they met at other times. Fellowshipping together with Jesus at the center was the passion of their entire lives. This makes the diversity of their accounts all the more extraordinary. In the four Gospels, we have independent witnesses who share a common story, but who each offer their own unique testimony. There is nothing comparable in all of world literature.
Another unusual feature, repeated in all four canonical Gospels, is the prominence of women as witnesses to the resurrection. In his book on Gospel Women, Richard Bauckham says, “In the four canonical Gospels fifteen women are named. Three are women from the Hebrew Bible/Old Testament included in Matthew’s genealogy of Jesus: Tamar, Rahab, and Ruth (Matthew 1:3, 5). One is the Herodian princess Herodias (Matthew 14:3,6; Mark 6:17,19, 22:11; Luke 3:19). Elizabeth the mother of John the Baptist and Anna the prophet appear in the first two chapters of Luke, along with Mary the mother of Jesus, who is also named elsewhere in the Synoptic Gospels, though not in John. The remaining eight named women are disciples of Jesus: Joanna, the sisters Martha and Mary of Bethany, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Joses, Mary the wife of Clopas, Salome, and Susanna.”5 Unnamed women are also prominent in the Gospels, though not as witnesses to the resurrection — the Samaritan woman at the well in John 4 and the adulterous woman in John 8, for example. But there must have been many women among the “more than 500 brothers” to whom Jesus appeared in Galilee (1 Corinthians 15:6). Jesus treated women with a kindness and grace that was not part of the ancient world of His day, but remains as a promise to all Christians for the future of the church which is His bride.
As is often observed, the notability of women in the resurrection stories runs contrary to the cultural norms of the time. These women are the first witnesses. They are treated with special attention by Jesus Himself and therefore also by the Gospel writers. This is one of the characteristics of the Gospel stories that illustrates their veracity, their trustworthiness as testimony to historical truth.
There is another resurrection narrative that is also singularly peculiar — the story of the guards at the tomb. Their story begins on the Sabbath day, when Pharisees and chief priests — not usually close companions, except in opposition to Jesus — come to Pilate and say that they remember that Jesus said that He would rise from the dead after three days (Matthew 27:63). Jesus typically spoke of the resurrection only to His disciples, but perhaps the Pharisees had means of discovering what Jesus was saying. Also, Judas could certainly have betrayed Jesus on this matter as well. However they came to know of it, they took it as a possible threat to their own position — for if they could show that the report of the resurrection were a mere lie, they would have had little to fear, except possible political ramifications in the short run.
Pilate gave them permission for a guard, though the language is not entirely clear. Was he simply allowing them to post a Jewish guard after securing the tomb or offering to provide them with a guard of Roman soldiers? It seems more probable that the guard would have been a Jewish guard, for they reported to the chief priests rather than Pilate.6 Allison argues that the soldiers must have been Roman, otherwise seeking permission from Pilate would have been irrelevant. It has been suggested that for a Roman soldier to admit to sleeping on guard duty would have probably meant death, but the fact that the chief priests seem confident that they can find a way out perhaps suggests a Jewish guard — though it has also been often pointed out that Pilate was open to bribery and could have been persuaded to look the other way, even if the guard were Roman. After all, it would have been a small group dealing with a merely Jewish problem.
The Jewish leaders, with Pilate’s permission, sealed the stone at the face of the tomb and appointed their guard. The irony here is profound in every direction. Romans and Jews cooperating to be sure that Jesus’ fearful disciples do not somehow find the courage and resolve to create a fake Messiah, when their faith in Jesus had been so shaken by the crucifixion that they had already given up their hope in Him (Luke 24:21). At the same time, the Jewish leaders refer to the words of a man who worked undeniably wonderful miracles, beyond understanding or explanation. If this man said He would rise again, how could a sealed stone and a few guards stop Him. The text in Matthew draws attention to the irony. The guards were supposed to guard a “corpse” but when they saw the angel, they became like “corpses” (Matthew 28:4).
The guard was posted on the Sabbath day by Jewish leaders who defiled the Sabbath law by their plots7 and by their visit to a Roman military authority on the Holy Day. But, of course, they had been rebelling against God’s law from the beginning. Jesus’ trials were a mockery of justice. Even Pilate knew they were killing Jesus for envy not because of their dedication to righteousness or Jewish law (Matthew 27:18; Mark 15:10).
Then, early on Sunday morning (Matthew 28:1; Mark 16:1; Luke 24:1), women came to the tomb. Jesus had many disciples among women: “There were also women looking on from afar, among whom were Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James the Less and of Joses, and Salome, who also followed Him and ministered to Him when He was in Galilee, and many other women who came up with Him to Jerusalem” (Mark 15:40-41). Why Sunday morning? Jesus was buried late on Friday. Sabbath law would not allow the women to either buy spices or visit the grave to anoint Jesus on the holy day, so, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James the Less and Joses, and Salome brought spices early Sunday morning to anoint His body (Mark 16:1) and went to visit the tomb.
The women were greeted by an angel “whose countenance was like lightning, and his clothing as white as snow” (Matthew 28:3) who told them not to be afraid (28:5), but the guards became like “corpses” (28:4) — perhaps before the women arrived, but at any rate with the appearance of the glorious angel. Though they fainted in terror, the subsequent record implies that they still perceived what was happening. The angel told the women that Jesus had risen from the dead and sent them to report to the rest of the disciples. As they ran to fulfill the angel’s command, Jesus Himself met the women! They fell at His feet and worshiped Him and Jesus reiterated the command of the angel, sending them to report to the disciples (28:9-10).
In the verses after 28:10, the Gospel account gets stranger yet. It seems that the angel departed, so that the brave guards might recover. Some of them, then, went to Jerusalem to report to “the chief priests all the things that had happened” (28:11). Commentators do not usually make much of this, but I think that it must imply that though they were incapacitated, they were not unconscious. They were able to report to the chief priests “all the things” that had transpired — the earthquake, the appearance of a glorious angel, the visit of the women, and, plausibly, the angel’s amazing words to the women.
What we have here, it seems, is the first resurrection testimony to men in the four Gospels, for the guard left as soon as the women, or very shortly thereafter (28:11). The guards hurried to the chief priests and reported to them that an angel had appeared, a glorious and terrifying angel, whose presence overwhelmed them. That is the kind of report that we might think a Jewish priest would find interesting!
But the guards would have also reported that the angel told the women that the tomb was empty because Jesus had risen from the dead, that he had invited them to look and see that Jesus was no longer there and had instructed them to hurry to tell the disciples that Jesus had risen from the dead. This, I suggest, is Mathew’s “all things” (28:11) — the report that the guard presented to the chief priests. Thus, these seem to be the first men who heard the testimony of the angel that Jesus had risen.8 If not the very first — the details of the chronology are hard to establish9 — then certainly among the first.
What does this mean? I think that it means that, even though Jesus did not personally manifest Himself to the guards, the Pharisees, or the chief priests, the testimony of His resurrection came to them from the beginning, from Sunday morning!
It is an amazing example of God’s grace to unrepentant Judah and her leaders. Just as Jesus’ repeated rebukes to the scribes and Pharisees were actually an offer of grace and a call to repentance, the testimony of the angel and the guards was another call for Judah and her leaders to believe in Jesus, the Messiah and Savior of Israel. Though they unjustly killed Him, He still keeps the door of salvation open. He is still inviting them to come!
Tragically also, and perhaps most poignantly, it is an utterly concrete confirmation of the words of Abraham to the rich man: “If they do not hear Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded though one rise from the dead” (Luke 16:31). The condemnation of the Jewish leaders was written in the stone of their wholeheartedly hard hearts.
“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the one who kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to her! How often I wanted to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing!” (Matthew 23:37)
Ralph Smith is a pastor of Mitaka Evangelical Church.
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