If the First Easter Had Happened in the 21st Century, Would You Believe?

On Easter Sunday I was making my evening holy hour and was reviewing the morning Mass’s gospel reading: John 20:1-9, where Mary Magdalene comes to the tomb, finds it empty and runs to tell Peter and John. There’s an element of confusion and disbelief in the text, and we often “tsk tsk” the disciples for not believing. But it’s easy to “tsk tsk” when you have 20 centuries of hindsight.

Let’s move up them into 21st-Century America (because that’s what I know): Not even 48 hours ago they had seen Josh, their friend and teacher — a phenomenally popular religious speaker whose videos had over a billion views on YouTube — receive a beatdown from security forces on the courthouse lawn. Those security forces then had the brilliant idea to zip-tie the guy’s hands to the bumper of one of their vehicles and drag him through town, the streets lined with a mob cheering them on, cellphones held high to get video for social media. By the time they get to downtown and park in the city center, it’s obvious Josh is dead, but they unload a few rounds in his chest just to make sure, the crowd going wild with each gunshot.

Eventually some of his followers get the OK to claim his body, and together with his mom, they cut the zip ties and take him to the nearest funeral home. It’s a rush job because everything shuts down at sunset and won’t be open for business tomorrow (I know, there’s not a perfect parallel for this in our day). They get him into the mortuary’s refrigeration unit and then hustle home. Nightmare Day One is over.

Nightmare Day Two: The Internet is lit up with videos of “The Dragging,” selfies in front of Josh’s zip-tied body, and, oh, so many opinions. His followers keep a very low profile. Private messages and texts only. Social media accounts either removed from public view or deleted entirely. People scrape “What Would Josh Do?” stickers off their car windows.

The third day begins with Mary Magdalene up before dawn, headed to the funeral home, driving her Mercedes with the lights off. She knows that the doors are locked and hasn’t quite figured out yet how to get around that. I don’t know if she’s heard that Josh’s enemies asked to have SWAT teams stationed there to deter any of his followers from breaking in and moving his body elsewhere. But none of that really matters, because when she gets to the funeral home the parking lot is deserted and the side doors to the mortuary are wide open. One drawer in the refrigeration unit is pulled out, and on it is a body bag — unzipped and empty.

Nightmare Day Three is not starting well for Magdalene. She sprints back to her Benz and peels out of the parking lot to go find Peter and John, who are holed up in a house on the other side of town with several other members of Josh’s inner circle. She doesn’t even make it into the house, already starting to tell the news into the camera of the Ring doorbell. A moment later the door is yanked open and John almost knocks her down as he sprints to his Dodge Charger. Above the thunder of the engine can be heard Peter bellowing at Andrew for blocking-in his truck in the driveway.

John gets to the funeral home first and stands in front of the mortuary doors, hands behind his head, just staring, and thinking, and remembering.

Peter shows up several minutes later, cutting the corner hard and tearing up one of the flowerbeds with his F150. He and John walk in and take a good look around. The body bag is empty, but the towel they had put over Josh’s face is folded neatly on a nearby table. Resurrexit sicut dixit, alleluia… John believes. He and Peter start back to the house. Along the way they pass Magdalene headed the other direction; John beeps his car horn and gives her a thumbs up out the window.

Now even more confused, Magdalene arrives at the funeral home again, peers inside for a while, and then sinks onto a nearby bench and starts weeping. Whatever’s going on is one-thousand-percent not normal; stop this ride, she wants to get off. Oh, and by the way, important detail: Josh’s body is still. missing.

There’s the scuff of a shoe on pavement, and then someone says, “Ma’am… why are you crying? Who are you looking for?”

Magz looks up and through blurry, tear-filled eyes sees a guy in a suit and tie. Probably an employee here. And asking why she’s crying when she’s sitting outside of a funeral home, not just any funeral home, but one that everyone in town knew held a certain body — this is the final straw for Magdalene. The lake house has plenty of acreage for a nice private burial site, and if she has to chuck a body in the back of her Benz and take it there herself, so be it. She’s done. So, through gritted teeth she says, “Sir, if you have moved him, tell me where and I will take him away.”

He just says: “Mary.”

And soon she’s the one speeding back across town, blaring the Benz’s horn and giving random people a thumbs up the whole way.

So we should cut the disciples some slack for their confusion and disbelief. It was not a normal weekend.

Alleluia.