A Day in the Life of Jesus
There are moments in the Gospel narrative that feel as though time slows down, not because little is happening, but because so much is being revealed at once. Matthew 28:8–10 is one of those moments. The resurrection morning has already shattered expectations, overturned grief, and redefined reality. The women leave the tomb carrying two emotions that rarely coexist—fear and joy. Matthew is deliberate in holding those together. “So they departed quickly from the tomb with fear and great joy” (italics added). Resurrection is not safe news; it is world-altering news. It unsettles everything that once felt certain, even as it fills the heart with hope that death no longer has the final word.
As I walk with these women in the text, I am struck by how Jesus meets them “as they were running.” He does not wait for them to calm themselves, collect their thoughts, or rehearse proper theology. He meets them in motion, in obedience, in trembling faith. His first word to them is almost disarming in its simplicity: “Greetings”—the Greek chairete, a word that can just as easily be rendered “rejoice” or even “good morning.” The risen Christ greets frightened disciples with joy. Before explanation, before instruction, before mission, He offers presence. They respond instinctively, falling at His feet, grasping what they once thought they had lost forever. Worship erupts not from polished liturgy, but from recognition. They know Him.
Jesus immediately follows that greeting with reassurance: “Do not be afraid.” This is not a dismissal of their fear but a reorientation of it. Fear no longer defines the situation because Jesus is alive. Then comes the commission: “Go and tell my brothers…” These words are easy to read quickly, but they carry extraordinary theological and pastoral weight. By calling the disciples “my brothers,” Jesus publicly restores those who had abandoned Him. As one commentator notes, “The designation ‘brothers’ is an implicit declaration of forgiveness” (R.T. France, The Gospel of Matthew). Before the disciples ask for forgiveness, before they explain themselves, before they demonstrate renewed faithfulness, Jesus names them family.
That detail becomes even more moving when we remember where the disciples actually are. The women are told to instruct them to go to Galilee, but fear keeps the disciples hidden in Jerusalem, behind locked doors (John 20:19). Failure has a way of shrinking our world. Shame convinces us that retreat is safer than obedience. Peter’s denial, Judas’s betrayal, and the collective flight of the others have left them hollowed out and unsure whether there is still a place for them in Jesus’ story. Yet Jesus does not wait for them to become brave. He goes to them first, stepping into their locked room, speaking peace into their fear (Luke 24:36). Later, He will meet them again in Galilee, just as promised, and restore Peter by a charcoal fire, undoing denial with love (John 21).
What becomes clear as I sit with this passage is that resurrection does not merely defeat death; it reclaims failed disciples. Jesus does not resurrect and then start over with better people. He resurrects and returns to the same men who ran away. This is where the title “He Won’t Give Up” moves from sentiment to substance. Grace is not exhausted by human weakness. The risen Christ specializes in second chances—and third, and fourth. As Augustine once wrote, “God loves each of us as if there were only one of us.” That love is not theoretical. It walks into locked rooms. It speaks forgiveness before repentance is eloquently formed. It calls cowards “brothers” and sends them back into the world as witnesses.
This moment with the women also reshapes how we understand discipleship. The first witnesses of the resurrection are not priests or rulers but faithful women who stayed near the cross and came to the tomb in love. Their testimony becomes the bridge between empty tomb and restored community. Discipleship, then, is not about having an unbroken record of courage but about staying responsive to Jesus when He appears unexpectedly in our path. Like the women, we often carry mixed emotions—fear because obedience feels costly, joy because Jesus is alive. The good news of this passage is that Jesus meets us there, too, and entrusts His message to imperfect hands.
As I reflect on this day in the life of Jesus, I am reminded that the resurrection story is not only about what happened to Him, but about what He continues to do with us. He restores relationships before assigning responsibility. He names us family before asking us to serve. He refuses to define us by our worst moments. N.T. Wright captures this beautifully when he writes, “The resurrection is not the end of the story; it is the beginning of God’s new work in and through His people.” That work begins not with scolding, but with peace, forgiveness, and renewed calling.
May you walk today with the assurance that the risen Jesus still meets His people where they are, still speaks peace into fear, and still calls the forgiven “brothers” and “sisters” as He sends them forward in hope.
For further reflection on the resurrection appearances and their significance for discipleship, see this article from The Gospel Coalition on the meaning of Jesus’ post-resurrection encounters: https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/why-jesus-appeared-after-the-resurrection/
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