St. John’s Episcopal Church
Tallahassee, FL

John 20:1-18

You ever walk into a room
and completely forget why you came in there?

Like, you’re just standing there—
keys in one hand, phone in the other—
no clue what you’re doing.

Happens to me all the time.

And not just with rooms.
Sometimes with days.
Sometimes with life.
Sometimes you look around and think,
“How did I get here? 
What exactly am I doing again?”

That is exactly where Mary Magdalene is
on the first Easter morning.

She gets up early,
goes to the tomb
heartbroken and foggy,
not expecting a miracle . . . 
just wanting to be near the one she lost.

But nothing is where it’s supposed to be.
The stone is rolled away.
The body’s gone.
The disciples come running,
look around,
shrug,
and head back home . . . 
totally useless, 
which is kind of on brand for them.

And then there’s Mary,
left standing in the quiet.
Exhausted.
Grieving.
Confused.

When she finally turns around,
there’s a man standing there.
You and I know it’s Jesus, 
but in that moment, 
she thinks he’s the gardener.

And while that sounds like a crazy mistake, 
she’s not entirely wrong, you know?

Because, honestly, Jesus is the gardener.

Not the weed-whacking, leaf-blowing kind.
The life-restoring kind.

The one who brings beauty out of chaos.
The one who tends to broken places.
The one who gets his hands dirty
to plant something new.

And Mary?
She doesn’t recognize him.
Not at first.

Because when you’re grieving,
and tired,
and overwhelmed,
sometimes even God standing right in front of you
can be hard to see.

But then he says her name.
“Mary.”

And just like that,
everything clicks.

She’s not lost.
She’s not alone.
She’s not forgotten.

She is seen.
She is loved.
She is known.

And that—
That, my friends, is Easter.

Not a religious prize for the spiritually impressive.
Not a mystery you have to solve.
Not a day you have to earn.

Easter is just Jesus,
alive again,
showing up for people who feel lost—
people like Mary,
people like me,
people like you—
and saying your name.

So if you came here today
not sure what to expect,
not sure where you stand with God,
or what you believe about any of this . . . 
you’re not alone.

Maybe you’re just here for the music.
Or for your grandmother.
Or because someone promised brunch afterward.

That’s okay.

You don’t have to have it all figured out.
You don’t have to “get it.”
You just have to show up.

Because the gardener is already here.
And he is still calling people by name.

And maybe—
just maybe—
he’s been standing in front of you this whole time.

Easter is not about having the right answers.
It is about discovering
you’re not as lost as you thought.

It is about hearing your name
and realizing grace has been planted in you all along.

So welcome.
Welcome to this story.
Welcome to this place.
Welcome to the garden.

Christ is risen.
And so are you.

Amen.