The Voice That Turned the Dawn: A Wix Reflection on John 20
- Douglas Vandergraph
- 2 hours ago
- 4 min read
There are moments in Scripture that feel like quiet reflections. Then there are moments that shake the foundations of the earth. John 20 is the second kind. It is the chapter where eternity breaks into time, where sorrow is interrupted by a voice, and where the dawn becomes more than morning light — it becomes revelation.
John 20 is not just about the resurrection. It is about the God who calls people by name. It is about the Savior who walks into fear-filled rooms. It is about the breath of God returning to humanity. It is about the moment when faith becomes sight and sight becomes worship.
This chapter does not simply tell a story. It awakens something inside you.
============================================================
Mary Magdalene walks toward the tomb before sunrise.
Her steps are slow. Her heart is bruised. Her soul aches with a grief too deep for words.
She is not coming in hope. She is coming in love — a love that refuses to abandon Jesus even in death.
The early morning air is still when she arrives. The garden is quiet, waiting, heavy with mystery.
She expects to find a sealed tomb.
Instead, she sees the stone moved.
Not nudged. Not cracked. Moved — pushed aside with the authority of heaven.
Fear shoots through her. Confusion swallows her thoughts. Her heart breaks open all over again.
She doesn’t imagine resurrection. She imagines loss.
She runs to Peter and John.
“They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have put Him!”
Her words are frantic, trembling, breathless.
Peter and John run to the tomb. John reaches the entrance first but stops. Peter, bold and impulsive, rushes straight inside.
The grave clothes are still there. The head cloth is folded separately — a detail far too deliberate to belong to thieves.
Something has happened. Something no one can explain.
John enters, sees, and something awakens in him. A spark. A beginning. A whisper of belief.
But Jesus is not there.
They leave.
But Mary stays.
It is the staying that becomes the doorway to the miracle.
============================================================
Mary stands outside the tomb, sobbing.
Her tears flow without pause. Her chest tightens. Her hope feels crushed.
She bends down to look again.
This time she sees angels.
Two of them. Sitting where Jesus’ body once lay. Heaven occupying the space death thought it owned.
They ask her:
“Woman, why are you crying?”
She answers through her tears:
“They have taken my Lord, and I do not know where they have put Him.”
She turns around.
Jesus is standing there.
But she cannot see Him through the fog of her sorrow.
He asks:
“Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?”
Thinking He is the gardener, she pleads:
“Sir, if you have carried Him away, tell me where you have put Him, and I will get Him.”
Her heart is willing to do the impossible. Her love is willing to carry whatever weight needed to bring Jesus back.
And then Jesus speaks a single word.
“Mary.”
Her name. Spoken with the familiarity of salvation. Spoken with the gentleness of grace. Spoken with the love that pulled her out of darkness once before.
Recognition explodes inside her.
She turns. She cries, “Rabboni!” — Teacher! Lord! Master!
Her heart resurrects before she even takes a step.
She reaches for Him.
But He says:
“Do not hold on to Me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. Go instead to My brothers and tell them…”
Then Jesus gives her a message no one has ever heard before:
“I am ascending to My Father and your Father, to My God and your God.”
This is more than victory. This is invitation. This is adoption. This is new creation.
Mary becomes the first witness of the risen Christ. The first messenger of the resurrection. The first voice of the new world.
“I have seen the Lord.”
============================================================
That evening, the disciples gather in a locked room.
Fear holds them hostage. Uncertainty sits thick in the air. Their hearts are shaken. Their minds are overwhelmed.
The doors are locked.
But Jesus appears anyway.
Not through the doorway. Not with footsteps. Just suddenly there — the risen King standing among them.
His first words:
“Peace be with you.”
Peace — in the room fear had controlled. Peace — in the hearts that felt crushed. Peace — in the presence of the One who defeated death.
He shows them His wounds. Proof that love suffers. Proof that love conquers.
Joy fills the room.
Then Jesus breathes on them.
The breath that once animated Adam now fills broken disciples.
“Receive the Holy Spirit.”
The resurrection is not just Jesus rising. It is Jesus restoring the breath of God to His people.
“As the Father has sent Me, I am sending you.”
Mission is born in that moment. Purpose awakens. Fear loses its grip.
But Thomas is not there.
============================================================
When the others tell Thomas, the hurt in him rises.
He wants to believe. But his heart has been shattered. His faith feels fragile. His hope feels risky.
He says he cannot believe unless he sees the wounds himself.
Eight days later, Jesus returns.
The doors are locked again. Fear sits in the corners again. But Jesus enters anyway.
“Peace be with you.”
Then He turns to Thomas with overwhelming compassion.
“Put your finger here. See My hands. Reach out your hand and put it into My side. Stop doubting and believe.”
Thomas falls to his knees.
“My Lord and my God!”
This is not doubt. This is surrender. This is the moment faith becomes fire.
Jesus says:
“You believe because you have seen. Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”
That blessing reaches across centuries. It rests on every believer today. It rests on anyone who trusts Jesus without seeing Him physically.
John closes the chapter with purpose:
“These things are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in His name.”
Life. Not just existence. Not just survival. Life — full, renewed, resurrected.
John 20 is the chapter of names spoken, fear shattered, walls passed through, breath restored and hope reborn.
It is the dawn that turned into a miracle.
============================================================
Your friend in Christ,
Douglas Vandergraph
Comments