“Coming into the tomb, they saw a young man seated to the right clothed in a long white robe. And they were startled” (Mark 16.5).
According to Mark’s Gospel, on the night of Jesus’ arrest there was a young man present who ran, um, out of his clothes trying to escape from the guards who attempted to detain him. Naked into the night he apparently runs out of the story just as fast as he entered it leaving no hint about who he was or why this escape (amidst the scattering of the Twelve) warranted mention.
Then on the first day of the week, the women go to the tomb to find the stone rolled away from its entrance and a young man in white waiting inside. The word translated as “young man” here is the same one used in this author’s account of the Gethsemane story, which doesn’t necessarily tie it to the figure who made such a dramatic escape, but it’s good to see he found something to wear if it was.
But what if this was the same person? What if the white-robed figure sitting off to the right was the same one who had been so afraid of capture, so terrified of the potential consequence of being discovered with Jesus that he’d lost all inhibition and fled naked as a jaybird into the darkness? What could that mean?
It might explain the feeling the women felt on seeing him. The word Mark uses isn’t so much fear as distress, discomfort. It’s the same feeling people had when Jesus healed the boy after the Transfiguration. There was something unexpected, startling in the sight of this figure. To me, it seems like when you see a friend or co-worker in a different city or a strange place. It’s the feeling that precedes the words I never expected to see you here. Words, I imagine came to mind upon seeing, inside this empty space, someone who just a day or so earlier had given into fear, stripping themselves of everything just to escape?
Jesus, in one of his parables, implied that we might be surprised at who we find at the table alongside us in the world beyond this one. Not everyone who says they’re a believer, I often heard it interpreted, will get to Heaven. But that simplifies and misstates what Jesus is saying. His implication was that you never know. The least likely people are the ones that stand up when it counts. Sometimes it’s the one you thought was the absolute last in line who steps up to the forefront.
The women were certainly surprised. How did this young man find his way here after running off into the dark? Did he see the stone rolling, and encounter what lay beyond? What could have transformed this person from such fear to such boldness to declare this message to them?
And where had he found these new clothes?
Jesus, like the young man, I have given into fear. Clothe me in your Resurrection so I may boldly declare your hope.