Imagine you are there, as Mary Magdalene, at the empty tomb of Jesus, looking for the body of Jesus. The very one you had been following for so long, who was only crucified, killed, and entombed some three days prior, is now nowhere to be found. To be sure, a number of keen observations and profound interpretations abound regarding the passage of Scripture in which this scene takes place, but not many, if any, so far as I have heard or read, have captured all the humor in the scene, which begins at the beginning of John chapter 20.

Mary has just been running back with Peter and John to the tomb, and, after the two men had seen the empty tomb and left, she was alone at the tomb. When she looks inside, she sees two angels in gleaming white robes, who ask her, “Woman, why are you crying?”

If I were one of the angels there, the first question in my mind would not have been that! Rather, I might have empathized and tried to comfort Mary. Of course, the angels have inside information; they are privy to the surprise to be revealed.

Furthermore, the scene of the resurrection account must be seen in light of the mood that is befitting such a scenario: the expectation is that Jesus is dead, but the surprise is that he is alive. Thus, there is great sorrow and befuddlement on the part of Mary and the disciples, but great joy and delight on the part of Jesus and the angels, who know that Jesus is actually alive.

Mary is there, bursting with the tears of sorrowful grief, and Jesus and the angels are brimming with the delight that a surprise is about to be unveiled in the greatest way possible: it should be obvious from the empty tomb and folded grave clothes that Jesus has risen, but it is not. Mary, like Peter and John, is slow to understand, even as we are.

The humor is here, then: first, it is that the disciples do not grasp what Jesus had been telling them so often all along, namely, that after he was crucified and killed, he would rise from the dead. The whole passage of John 20 is filled with the wondrous surprise of humor. The next, and rather obvious, bit of humor is the fact that the author of the Gospel (likely the Apostle John) indicates that he outruns old Peter. This bit most apprehend and talk about, saying something like, “Oh, John! You silly man! Making much of your speed and light-footedness! How quaint and humorous! What a funny little joke!”

However, the humor doesn’t stop there.

There is humor to be found in the fact that the question “Woman, why are you crying?” is repeated twice: once by the angels and then again by Jesus himself. The repetition is a kind of humorous play on the phrase, a kind of parroting mimicry of one another, like children who cry out and repeat a word or phrase in play. It’s almost as if the angels’ and Jesus’ question have a twofold meaning: the plain meaning of “For what reason are you shedding tears, seeing as the man you seek is alive?” and the furtive meaning of “We’re about to surprise you with something beyond your wildest dreams!” The repetitive nature of the question heightens the lighthearted and humorous nature of the phrase in the passage, like a knock-knock joke.

Then, the fact that Mary looks right at Jesus, but does not recognize him, the one whom she had been following for so long, indicates a kind of coy game of hide and seek in broad daylight with the one hiding in plain sight. When I was a child, I loved to “hide” by covering my head with my hands and closing my eyes. My family would walk around, acting as if I had disappeared and become invisible. This kind of “hiding” would tickle me to no end. In a very similar way, I can imagine Jesus “hiding” in plain sight, tickled to no end to soon reveal to Mary the greatest delight of her life.

The ultimate joke of humor in John 20 is to be found in verse 17, where, once he has revealed himself to her, Jesus tells Mary, “Don’t cling to me; I have yet to ascend to the Father!” For Jesus to issue a command at such a time as this seems rather out of place; additionally, for him to issue such a command seems rather absurd: why can’t Mary touch him, lay hold of him, give him a hug?

Imagine the scene: Jesus has just revealed to the woman from whom he cast out seven demons and set in her right mind that he is risen from the dead. She may well have been one of his most devoted followers after a miracle like that. Now, to find her savior alive and well, having defeated and conquered death itself, might well have made her so overcome with emotion that she would do what any devotee, let alone any other normal human being would do: she embraces him! She loves him so much that she just gives him a big old bear hug, and he, himself full of joy and delight, might have chuckled as she embraced him, saying with jest, “Don’t hold me down; I’ve got to ascend!”

Jesus was not a serious and somber fellow: he wasn’t called a drunkard and glutton, a friend of tax collectors and sinners for nothing. In fact, you might say Jesus was a partier and, in more than one way, the life of the party. He quipped with the religious leaders and likely had a ready smile for those whom he loved, which would have been anyone down and out or aware of their great need for a savior. Indeed, his mission on earth was to proclaim the “good news” that the kingdom of heaven is here right now. To be sure, Jesus must have been an all around jolly fellow–especially after having risen from the dead!

Thus, when Jesus says, “Let go of me” or “Don’t cling to me,” he’s not issuing a divine command to be passed on down through the ages; he’s humorously accepting Mary’s embrace of love and fervent devotion and telling her that he’s happy to see her, too.

Furthermore, think about it: as if Mary could really hold him down from ascending to the Father, Jesus commands her to let him go. The scene is not one of commands and demands but delight and celebration; thus, Jesus’ resurrection is a party of parties, where Jesus invites Mary to not only delight in his presence but share it with all the other disciples as well.