Hello my friends.
This is Mark Gladman,
Also known as Brother Frederick James,
Your friendly neighbourhood monk in dogs.
Welcoming you to day 39 of our Lenten 2026 journey through the wilderness still held as we walk John's Gospel through Easter.
Once again I invite you to take a moment to settle.
To open your ears to hear what it is the Spirit would have you hear today.
To open your mind to think clearly through those words that prick your heart.
To open your eyes to see where the reflection today takes you.
And that your heart might be good soil to receive this seed of word.
That it might sprout beautiful plants that bring fruit to your life and to those around you.
Today we find ourselves at the very start of John chapter 20,
Early in the morning.
The Gospel tells us that Mary Magdalene comes to the tomb while it was still dark.
So I guess early is an understatement.
It's still dark.
The sun's not even up.
The story of resurrection begins right here in darkness.
And Mary comes to the tomb carrying grief.
The events of the previous days have shattered everything that she thought she understood.
The teachers she loved,
The hope that she trusted,
The future she imagined,
All seemed to end at the cross.
So she comes to the tomb and I'm not entirely convinced that she's expecting a miracle or that even if she's looking for resurrection,
I think maybe she's simply coming to the place where love has been laid to rest.
It's all she knows to do.
And then something really unexpected happens.
She discovers the stone has been moved.
The tomb's open.
But notice something important in this moment.
The Gospel tells us that Mary does not understand.
The revelation has begun but the meaning hasn't yet arrived.
Something's changed but the clarity of what's going on here is still unfolding for her.
This is a very human reaction,
Isn't it,
Between grief and revelation,
Between what's been lost and what will eventually be seen.
And many of us know this place far too well.
There's moments in life when we sense that something's changing.
A door is opening or a circumstance is shifting.
A question is emerging yet the meaning of it all isn't quite yet clear.
Those times we ask the question,
God what are you doing?
What's going on?
Something's begun but we don't know what it means yet.
And this is the frustrating truth,
Isn't it,
That spiritual insight rarely arrives all at once.
Usually it unfolds really slowly,
Really slowly.
First the stone moves and later comes the recognition.
First the opening and then later the understanding.
Mystery usually comes before the clarity.
And this is why the wilderness is such an important place in the spiritual journey.
The wilderness unfolds things way more slowly.
Meaning doesn't always appear straight away.
The path isn't always visible from the very beginning,
But over time something begins to emerge.
It's a deeper seeing,
A gentler wisdom,
A recognition that grows gradually.
And here in John 20,
Mary is standing at the threshold of that unfolding.
The tomb is open,
But resurrection hasn't yet been understood.
And perhaps that's part of the wisdom of this moment,
That the gospel allows the mystery to remain unsolved just for a little while.
In our lives,
We want answers and we want them now.
We want clarity,
Resolution,
Certainty.
But the deeper movements of God are rarely rushed.
They unfold slowly,
Gently,
And quite often in ways that we only understand later,
Sometimes much later.
So today we sit with a simpler question.
Where in my life am I standing at an open tomb,
Where something's shifted but the meaning hasn't yet become clear?
Maybe there's a decision unfolding or a relationship changing.
Maybe there's a calling that's slowly emerging in your heart or a question that remains unanswered.
And now I wonder,
What would it be like to allow the mystery to continue and remain for a little while?
To trust that understanding may come,
But when it comes,
It's going to come in its own time.
Where do you want answers too quickly?
What might still be unfolding beneath the surface,
Possibly where you can't see?
Can you stay open without demanding immediate clarity?
Mary came while it was still dark and in that darkness something had already begun.
The stone had moved and the story was changing even before anyone fully understood it.
And sometimes the first sign of resurrection is simply that something has opened.
And we're invited to stay there with patience,
With curiosity,
And with quiet trust.
So just for a moment,
Simply rest in that space.
Trusting that what's unfolding will become clear in time.
And when you're ready,
Rise and walk into this new day,
Allowing yourself to carry this curiosity with you into the day.
Not held tightly,
But ready to be released as soon as the time is right.
And may grace and peace and love hold you in that uncertainty and abide with you until that time comes.
Today and as long as it takes.
Amen.
Until tomorrow.
Bye for now.
