The Courage of the Unanswered Question
A Reflection on the Sunday of the Holy Myrrhbearers
Sunday of the Holy Myrrhbearers – (Acts §16 (6:1-7) / Saint Mark §69 (15:43-16:8)).
Beloved in Christ,
As we hear in today’s Gospel, very early in the morning, while the world remained shrouded in the heavy silence of the pre-dawn, a small group of women made their way toward a tomb. They moved carefully through the dim light of Jerusalem carrying a weight far heavier than the jars of spices in their hands. They carried the crushing finality of the past three days: the memory of the Cross, the echo of the hammers, and the sight of a massive stone being sealed over the entrance of their hope.
As they walked, a practical, nagging question arose among them: “Who will roll away the stone for us from the door of the tomb?”
It is a simple question, and a sensible one. The stone was massive, and they were few. There was no reason to believe they could move it. And yet, the most striking part of the Gospel narrative is not the question itself, but what the women did not do. They did not stop walking. They did not turn back to find help. They did not wait for a solution before beginning their journey.
The Anatomy of Delay
We often find ourselves standing on that same road, but with a different result. For us, the question “Who will roll away the stone?” is not a logistical inquiry, but a reason for delay. We treat the obstacles in our spiritual lives as prerequisites for action.
How often do we tell ourselves such things as: “I will commit to a life of prayer once my schedule is less chaotic,” “I will return to the Church once I have resolved my intellectual or emotional doubts,” or, “I will forgive that person once the pain has subsided.”
We wait for the path to be cleared before we take the first step. We demand that the stone be moved while we are still sitting in the safety of our homes, before even standing up to set out on the road. We mistake our hesitation for “prudence,” but in reality, we are conditioning our obedience on the removal of difficulty. We wait for a “favorable moment” that never arrives, and as a result, our own jars of myrrh remain unopened, and our faith remains stationary.
Faith as Movement, Not Certainty
The Myrrhbearers offer us a different paradigm. Their faith was not defined by a feeling of certainty; in fact, if we are to be honest, their understanding was profoundly incomplete. We must remember that they were not expecting a Resurrection. They were bringing spices for the dead. Their love was genuine, but it was marked by grief and a misunderstanding of Who Christ truly was. They went to anoint a corpse, not to encounter the Living God.
And this can be, conversely, a great consolation for us. It suggests that Christ does not demand perfect understanding or an unwavering heart before He invites us to move toward Him. We often feel that our prayers are too distracted, our lives too messy, or our faith too fragile to be of any use. But the Myrrhbearers teach us that God receives us in our movement. Faith is not a static state of mind or soul. It is the quiet, stubborn decision to walk toward Christ even when the heart is heavy and the mind is clouded.
The Mystery of the Removed Obstacle
The high point of the journey of the Myrrhbearers contains a spiritual law that we frequently overlook: “And when they looked up, they saw that the stone was rolled away.”
The obstacle they had worried about along the road had been resolved before they arrived. This reveals the peculiar manner in which God works in our lives. He does not always remove the stone the moment we think of the journey. Often, He waits until we are standing before the tomb.
But so long as we remain still, we remain prisoners of the obstacle. We see only the stone. We focus on it, on what we believe stands in our way. It is only in the act of walking, in the “going,” that the miracle of the cleared path is revealed. Had the women stayed behind to reason out the problem, they would have remained in their sorrow, and the Resurrection would have remained, for them, an untold story.
From Mourning to Proclamation
Because they moved in spite of the stone, their entire reality was transfigured. Those who came to tend the dead became the first to encounter the Life. Those who came in silence were entrusted with the first Proclamation.
The same goes for us today. This transformation from mourning to joy, from doubt to apostleship, is not reserved for a “spiritual elite.” It is the inheritance of anyone willing to carry their “small myrrh” toward the Lord.
A Quiet Examination
As we celebrate the Sunday of the Myrrhbearers, we are invited to look at our own lives with honesty, not judgment.
What stones have we allowed to become an excuse for our own stagnation?
What steps have we postponed, waiting for a clarity that can only be found in the walking?
Let us take what little faith we have. Let us take our imperfect love, our lingering questions, and our very real fears. Let us, like the Myrrhbearers, simply go.
For we may find, when we arrive, that the stone has already been rolled away and that Christ is not where we expected Him to be, but is already standing before us, risen and waiting to be known. For indeed: Christ is Risen! And in His rising, He invites us to touch the life that no stone can exclude and no death can touch.
26 April 2026