August 9, 2026 - Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost: Holy Hands: Tomb

August 9, 2026 Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost 
Ladue Chapel Presbyterian Church
Jeremiah 31:1-6John 20:1-18
“Holy Hands: Tomb”
Melissa K. Smith

I am not often aware of my hands. If I want to grab something, I do. If I need to type, text, or handwrite, I can. Though, every winter my hands make themselves very known with chapped knuckles, and playing basketball in high school I was aware of my hands every time I broke a finger, and washing my hands a thousand times a day when we brought Phoebe home from the hospital was also quite the awareness exercise.

But watching Phoebe, my four month old daughter, learn how her hands work, has made me newly aware of all the things her hands can or will do. She’s learning that her hands can grab things, pull things, and hold things. It’s a lot of work!

At night, one of the ways we pray together before she is swaddled, is with our hands. I take her hands into mine and we talk about all the things she will do with the hands God made. One day those hands will feed her and others, those hands will pray, those hands will hug, those hands will pull others up, those hands will write important words. And one day, my hope as a pastor and mother, is that those hands will hold the Bible, and she will read and know the gospel.

But before the gospel was written down, before it was bound into pages, before it was preached from pulpits or studied in classrooms, the good news was carried.  It was carried in bodies and voices, across roads and into homes, through conversations and communities. The gospel moved because people moved.

Throughout the New Testament, the gospel moves again and again through the hands of men and women. For the next three weeks, we will be navigating through our sermon series called Holy Hands. God places holy things into ordinary hands, and by God's grace those ordinary hands become holy hands. We will meet women whose hands carried the gospel in remarkable, and often overlooked, ways.

Today we meet Mary Magdalene, who carried the news of the resurrection while grief was still fresh. Mary Magdalene was charged with a message to share.

Before the digital age, messages traveled in many ways. Couriers carried them from city to city. Pigeons delivered them through the air. Smoke signaled important events. Drums carried messages across great distances. Later came telegraphs and Morse code. Go back even farther and humanity relied on runners. Think of the messenger from Marathon who ran to Athens announcing victory, or Paul Revere's midnight ride warning that the British were coming.

But on the first Easter morning there were no pigeons, no drums, no smoke, and no coded messages.  There was only a grieving disciple. A faithful woman who had come simply to mourn her Lord.

It is a story we know well. Every Easter we hear of the women making their way to the tomb before sunrise. We proclaim together, "He is risen! He is risen indeed!" We celebrate that death could not hold Christ. It is the story at the heart of our faith. And it is a story first entrusted to Mary Magdalene.  John tells us, "Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed."

Mary immediately ran to Simon, Peter and the beloved disciple. Together they hurried back to the tomb. John can't resist mentioning that he outran Peter. John looked inside. Peter walked all the way in. They examined the linen wrappings. Scripture says they "saw and believed."  Then they went home; but Mary stayed.

John writes, "But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb."  She remained after everyone else had left. As she wept, she looked into the tomb and saw two angels sitting where Jesus had been laid. They asked, "Woman, why are you weeping?" She answered, "They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him." In her grief, Mary stayed. Her hope was fading, but her love kept watch.

Then she turned and saw Jesus. She did not recognize him until he spoke one word. Until he said her name. Mary's encounter with the risen Christ was deeply personal before it ever became public. She recognized Jesus because she knew him.

Every one of us has our own story of coming to know Christ. Some of us have known him since childhood. Some met him because someone else's faith pointed us toward him. Some discovered God's presence in seasons of heartbreak or uncertainty. However our story began, each of us has our own encounter with the living Christ.

Mary cried out, "Rabbouni!"—Teacher. In that moment everything changed. The one she believed dead was alive. The tomb was no longer the end of the story. Then Jesus entrusted her with a message. "Go to my brothers and say to them..."

In that moment, Mary's holy hands were given a holy task. She was entrusted with the resurrection before anyone else. The first hands to carry Easter hope back into the world were the hands of a grieving woman. Mary became the first messenger of the resurrection.

John tells us, "Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, 'I have seen
the Lord.'"

Those simple words contain the whole gospel.

The Greek verb translated "I have seen" (ἑώρακα) is in the perfect tense. It describes an action completed in the past whose effects continue into the present.

Those words became something Mary carried. The resurrection was no longer simply an event she witnessed; it became a hope she held and a message she could not keep to herself. That is what holy hands do—they receive God's grace, and then they carry it into the world.

Jesus rose on a particular morning in history. And because he rose, everything is still different today. Death has been defeated. Hope has entered the world. The resurrection continues to shape our lives.

Mary was not chosen because she was polished or prepared. She had not written a sermon. She had not rehearsed her testimony. She was still crying; yet she was entrusted with the greatest announcement in history. "I have seen the Lord." That was enough. That is good news for us.

Every one of us has been given something holy to carry. Maybe it is a word of hope. Maybe it is forgiveness. Maybe it is compassion. Maybe it is simply the quiet assurance that Christ is alive. God continues to place holy things into ordinary hands. Sometimes we hesitate to speak about our faith because our stories feel unfinished. We wonder whether we know enough, whether our words are polished enough, whether our faith is strong enough.

Mary reminds us that God does not wait for perfect messengers. God sends faithful ones. So what does it look like to carry the good news when our own hearts are still grieving? What does it look like to proclaim hope when the world's news feels overwhelming? What does it look like to testify to Christ when our faith feels fragile?

Mary shows us.

She kept showing up. She stayed at the tomb. She listened for the voice of Jesus. And when he called her, she went. Jesus entrusted Mary with the good news. Today he entrusts it to us.

Who in your life needs to hear your story of where you have seen the Lord? How will your words, your actions, your compassion, and your faithfulness proclaim the resurrection? May we, like Mary, receive this holy trust with open hands.

And may God use our ordinary hands to carry the extraordinary good news that Christ is alive.

Long before the gospel was written in ink, it was carried in holy hands. And today, before someone reads Matthew or John, they may first read the gospel in us.

Mary’s holy hands carried the news to the disciples.

And now God places the gospel into our hands.

Will you hold your hands out with me? I want to share with you how Phoebe and I have prayed at night – and invite you into this prayer.

These hands bless.
These hands serve. 
These hands comfort.
These hands forgive.
These hands carry hope.
These hands carry Christ.
These ordinary hands become holy hands wherever they carry the love of Christ into the world.

So go with your holy hands. Carry the good news with your words, your compassion, your courage, and your faithfulness. For Christ is risen, and the world needs each of us to say, “I have seen the Lord.”

Thanks be to God.

Amen.