The First Witnesses of the Resurrection

On By Bp. Justin ElwellIn Applied Theology, InspirationLeave a comment

Matthew 28:1–10

Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee, and there they will see me” (Matt. 28:10). 

The resurrection narratives of the Gospels are filled with theological depth and historical detail. Yet one feature of the account stands out with striking clarity—and historical surprise: the first witnesses of the resurrection were women.

In the ancient world, this detail would not strengthen the story; it would weaken it. Women were rarely considered credible legal witnesses. Yet the Gospel writers record without hesitation that the first people entrusted with the message of the empty tomb were Mary Magdalene and the other Mary.

Matthew tells us that “after the Sabbath, toward the dawn of the first day of the week,” the women came to the tomb (Matt. 28:1). These were not casual observers who simply happened by. They were the very women—Mary Magdalene and the other Mary—who had watched as Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus carefully laid the body of Yeshua in the tomb (Matt. 27:57–61; cf. Jn. 19:39).

When many others had fled in fear or despair, these women remained—at the cross and at the tomb. They witnessed His burial. They knew where He was laid. And now, at the earliest possible moment after the Sabbath, they returned. Their presence at both the burial and the resurrection scene forms an important historical thread: they knew exactly which tomb to visit, and they came expecting to mourn, not to celebrate.

Suddenly, Matthew records another dramatic moment: an earthquake shakes the earth. An angel of the Lord descends from heaven and rolls away the stone from the entrance of the tomb. The scene is filled with awe and terror. The guards stationed at the tomb—Roman soldiers tasked with preventing any tampering—collapse in fear. Matthew describes them as becoming “like dead men” (Matt. 28:4). Ironically, the living guards fall as though dead, while the one who had been crucified now lives. Yet the angel’s first words are not addressed to the soldiers but to the women.

The angel says to them: “Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here, for He has risen, as He said.” Fear dominates the scene—earthquake, angelic glory, unconscious guards—but the women receive reassurance. The angel invites them to examine the evidence: “Come, see the place where He lay.” Our Messianic faith is not grounded in myth or vague spiritual experience alone. The angel points to a physical reality: the tomb is empty. The place where His body was laid is now vacant. The resurrection is proclaimed not as abstract theology, but as an observable historical event.

After inviting them to see the evidence, the angel gives the women a mission: “Go quickly and tell His disciples that He has risen from the dead.” In that moment, the women become the first proclaimers of the resurrection. Before the apostles preach, before Pentecost, before the gospel spreads across the Roman world, these women are entrusted with the central message of the Christian faith. They are sent as evangelists of the resurrection.

As they run to tell the disciples, Matthew records another extraordinary moment: Jesus Himself meets them along the way. He greets them simply, and they respond by falling at His feet and worshiping Him. The resurrection is no longer a report received from an angel—it is personally experienced. Then the risen Messiah repeats the commission: “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee, and there they will see me.” The message of the resurrection is now confirmed both by the angel and by the risen Lord Himself. Once again, the women are entrusted with the responsibility to carry the message.

From a historical perspective, this detail is deeply significant. In the ancient world, women were generally not considered reliable legal witnesses. Their testimony carried little or no weight in formal proceedings. Jewish and Greco-Roman sources both reflect this cultural reality. If someone in the first century were inventing a story about the resurrection in order to persuade others, placing women as the primary witnesses would be a highly unlikely choice. It would not strengthen the claim—it would weaken it.

In fact, later critics of the Christian faith used this very feature to attack the gospel accounts. The second-century philosopher Celsus mocked the resurrection as the report of a “hysterical woman,” dismissing the testimony of the Marys as unreliable gossip (Origen’s Contra Celsum 2.55). Their testimony was treated as evidence against the credibility of the resurrection story. Yet the Gospel writers preserved the account exactly as it happened. They did not reshape the story to make it more persuasive by ancient standards. Instead, they recorded what occurred: the risen Messiah first revealed Himself to faithful women.

This is precisely the kind of detail historians often look for—an element that would be embarrassing or counterproductive if the account were fabricated.

What does this mean for us today? First, it reminds us that the Lord often entrusts His greatest works to those the world undervalues. The culture of the time dismissed the testimony of women, yet the Lord chose them to carry the most important message in history: He is risen.

Second, it challenges the people of faith to recognize the importance of the witness of women in the life of the community of believers. From the first resurrection dawn onward, women have stood among the faithful proclaimers of the good news.

Finally, the passage reminds us that the resurrection message is not meant to remain private. Just as the women were told, “Go and tell,” so the same commission continues today. The “go and tell” is now “go and make disciples.” The good news of the risen Messiah is meant to be carried from person to person, and generation to generation, even to the ends of the earth (Matt. 28:18-20).

The women came to the tomb in grief, expecting death. Instead, they encountered the greatest victory in history.

Their story teaches a powerful lesson: those who remain faithful in the darkest moments are often the first to witness the dawn of resurrection. The same Lord who said to them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell,” still sends His people today. 

The message first carried from that empty tomb continues to move from person to person and generation to generation:

He is not here. He is risen.

Maranatha. Shalom.

In the Tomb of a Disciple:The Hope of ResurrectionMatthew 27:57–61

On By Bp. Justin ElwellIn Applied Theology, InspirationLeave a comment

Hope seemed to have ended as Jesus hung dead upon the cross. All of the miracles, signs, wonders, teaching, and personal encounters were now a memory. Yet what seemed an end was only the beginning as the Lord quietly advances the revelation of the Gospel. Matthew’s account of the burial of Yeshua presents a quiet but powerful moment in the Gospel narrative. After the dramatic events of the crucifixion, the scene shifts to a small group of devoted followers who ensure that the body of the Messiah is treated with dignity and honor. What might appear to be a somber conclusion to the story actually reveals deep devotion, divine providence, and the preparation for the greatest triumph in history.

The Gospel of Matthew tells us that a wealthy man from Arimathea named Joseph came forward to claim the body of Jesus (Matthew 27:57–58). Joseph is described as a disciple of Yeshua, though other Gospel accounts clarify that he had previously been a secret disciple (Jn. 19:38). The Gospel of John further records that Joseph was not alone. He was accompanied by Nicodemus, another member of the Jewish leadership (John 19:39). Both men were part of the Sanhedrin, the ruling council in Jerusalem. They were individuals of influence, reputation, and social standing.

Until this moment, their allegiance to Yeshua had remained largely hidden. The political and religious climate surrounding Jesus had become increasingly hostile, making open identification with Him risky. Yet the death of Yeshua becomes the turning point for these men. In an act of courage and devotion, they step forward publicly. The cross scattered the public disciples, but revealed the hidden ones. Joseph goes directly to Pontius Pilate to request the body, showing his prominent position in Jerusalem, while Nicodemus assists in the burial preparations. What had been hidden discipleship becomes visible loyalty. They had the social standing to ensure that the body of Yeshua was laid to rest with dignity, something none of the other disciples were able to do. Their actions demonstrate that true devotion sometimes emerges most clearly in moments of apparent defeat.

Joseph’s tomb itself reveals another dimension of the story. Matthew tells us that Joseph placed the body of Jesus in a new tomb that he had cut in the rock. Such tombs were costly and typically reserved for wealthy families. The location, in a garden near the site of the crucifixion, reflected Joseph’s position and status in society. Yet beyond displaying Joseph’s prestige, the tomb also highlights the sovereign purposes of God.

Matthew also records that Mary Magdalene and “the other Mary” were sitting opposite the tomb, watching where Yeshua was laid (Matt. 27:61). Their presence quietly establishes an important testimony. These women witnessed the burial location firsthand, ensuring that the same tomb that received His body would later be the tomb found empty. Their faithful vigil forms a bridge between the burial and the resurrection morning, reinforcing the reliability of the Gospel account.

Isaiah had foretold centuries earlier that the suffering servant would be associated with the rich in His death (Isa. 53:9). Though the crucifixion itself was the execution reserved for criminals, the burial of Yeshua fulfilled this prophetic detail. Joseph’s status and resources were not accidental; they were providential. The Lord had positioned Joseph in precisely the right place in society so that, at the decisive moment, the prophecy would be fulfilled. Even in what seemed to be the darkest hour—the death of the Messiah—the Lord’s purposes were unfolding exactly as foretold.

Nicodemus’s contribution further emphasizes the honor given to Yeshua in His burial. John records that Nicodemus brought a mixture of myrrh and aloes weighing about seventy-five pounds (Jn. 19:39). This was an extraordinary amount. Even wealthy families normally used only small quantities of such spices when preparing a body for burial. The quantity Nicodemus provided reflects an act of lavish devotion.

In the ancient world, such extravagant burial spices were often reserved for royalty. The Hebrew Scriptures record that kings were buried with large quantities of aromatic spices (2 Chron. 16:14). By bringing this immense amount of myrrh and aloes, Nicodemus effectively treated Yeshua as a king. Though Jesus had been crucified under the charge “King of the Jews,” Nicodemus’s actions silently affirm the truth of that title. Even in death, Yeshua was honored with the care and respect befitting royalty.

At first glance, the sealed tomb appears to mark the end of the story. The stone is rolled into place, and the body of Jesus lies within. For the disciples and followers of Yeshua, the moment must have felt like the final chapter. Yet in the Gospel narrative, the tomb is not the conclusion—it is the preparation for what comes next.

The burial sets the stage for the greatest victory in the history of redemption. The same tomb that holds the body of Yeshua will soon become the place from which resurrection is proclaimed. What appears to be a symbol of death will become the testimony of life. Joseph’s tomb, carved in stone and sealed by human hands, becomes the silent witness to the power of God that will soon raise the Messiah from the grave.

Thus, the burial of Yeshua is not just a historical detail. It reveals courageous discipleship, the meticulous fulfillment of prophecy, and the unfolding of God’s sovereign plan. Even in the stillness of the tomb, the promise of resurrection is already drawing near.

Maranatha. Shalom.