Hevoro Tuesday – The Second Day of Brightness
Go Therefore: St. Matthew 28:11–20
“And lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” (28:20)
Yesterday was Hevoro Monday. The road to Emmaus. Two disciples walking away from the resurrection. A Stranger joining them. Hearts burning. Scriptures opening. Bread breaking. Eyes recognising. And then the running back. “He was known to them in the breaking of bread.”
Today the scene shifts. From a road to a mountain. From two disciples to eleven. From recognition to commission. From “we have seen” to “go therefore.” The Emmaus road was about discovering the risen Christ. The mountain in Galilee is about being sent by Him.
The fast prepared us to receive. The Hevoro Days are teaching us to go.
The Lie That Is Still Being Told (vv. 11–15)
“Now while they were going, behold, some of the guard came into the city and reported to the chief priests all the things that had happened. When they had assembled with the elders and consulted together, they gave a large sum of money to the soldiers, saying, ‘Tell them, “His disciples came at night and stole Him away while we slept.” And if this comes to the governor’s ears, we will appease him and make you secure.’ So they took the money and did as they were instructed; and this saying is commonly reported among the Jews until this day.” (28:11–15)
Before the commission, the counter-narrative.
The guards who were posted at the tomb saw what happened. They were the first witnesses. Not the disciples. The guards. Roman soldiers. Trained professionals. And they “reported to the chief priests all the things that had happened.” They told the truth. To the people least likely to want to hear it.
And the chief priests did what institutions do when the truth threatens the institution. They bought a lie.
“A large sum of money.” Arguria hikana. Sufficient silver. Enough money to make the truth disappear. The same institution that paid Judas thirty pieces of silver to betray Christ now pays the soldiers to betray the truth. Silver opened the gate to the Cross on Wednesday. Silver closes the gate to the resurrection on Tuesday. The currency of betrayal is consistent.
“Tell them, His disciples came at night and stole Him away while we slept.”
The lie is absurd on its face. Roman soldiers do not sleep on watch. The penalty for sleeping on guard duty was death. And if they were asleep, how did they know it was the disciples who took the body? The lie contradicts itself. But lies do not need to be coherent. They need to be convenient. And this lie was convenient enough for the institution that needed the resurrection not to have happened.
“And this saying is commonly reported among the Jews until this day.”
Matthew notes that the lie persisted. The counter-narrative survived. The money did its work. Even after the resurrection appearances. Even after Pentecost. Even after the Church spread across the Roman Empire. The lie was still being told. Because a lie well-funded outlasts a truth poorly defended.
This is the world into which the Great Commission is spoken. Not a world that has accepted the resurrection. A world that is actively suppressing it. The “go therefore” of verse 19 is spoken against the background of a “they paid money and said” of verse 15. The commission is not delivered into a vacuum. It is delivered into opposition. The disciples are sent into a world that has already decided to deny what they have seen.
On Day 43, the chief priests asked “by what authority?” and could not answer Christ’s counter-question honestly. On Day 44, the Pharisees and Sadducees tried to trap Christ with questions about taxes and resurrection. On Day 45, the secret believers loved the praise of men more than the praise of God. Today the institutional resistance to the truth reaches its crudest form. Not theology. Not argument. Not debate. Cash. The truth can be buried with a large enough payment.
St. John Chrysostom, in his Homily 90 on Matthew, turns the lie into evidence. He argues that the chief priests’ bribery of the soldiers is the strongest proof of the resurrection from a hostile source. If the body had been stolen, the chief priests would have conducted a search. If the disciples had taken the body, the chief priests would have arrested them. Instead, the chief priests paid money to suppress the guards’ testimony. The suppression is the evidence. You do not pay people to be quiet about nothing. The money proves that the guards saw something the chief priests could not afford to have reported. Chrysostom says: the lie confirms the truth it was designed to hide.1
The Eleven Went to Galilee (vv. 16–17)
“Then the eleven disciples went away into Galilee, to the mountain which Jesus had appointed for them. When they saw Him, they worshipped Him; but some doubted.” (28:16–17)
Galilee. Not Jerusalem. The commission is given in Galilee. The backwater. The province the religious establishment despised. “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Can anything good come out of Galilee?
Everything good came out of Galilee. The calling of the fishermen. The Sermon on the Mount. The walking on the water. The healing of the leper. The feeding of the multitudes. The entire ministry began in Galilee. And the final commission returns there. The beginning and the ending in the same geography. The place where they first heard “follow Me” is the place where they now hear “go.”
“To the mountain which Jesus had appointed for them.”
The appointment was delivered through the women. On Resurrection morning, the angel at the tomb told them: “Go quickly and tell His disciples that He is risen from the dead, and indeed He is going before you into Galilee; there you will see Him” (Matthew 28:7). And Christ Himself, meeting the women as they ran from the tomb, repeated the instruction: “Go and tell My brethren to go to Galilee, and there they will see Me” (Matthew 28:10). Mark’s account records the same angelic message: “Go, tell His disciples and Peter that He is going before you into Galilee; there you will see Him, as He said to you” (Mark 16:7).
The women carried the appointment. The first messengers of the resurrection were also the first bearers of the commission’s logistics. The same women whose testimony would not have been accepted in a first-century court were the ones entrusted with the instruction that assembled the eleven on the mountain where the Great Commission would be spoken. Without the women’s obedience, the disciples would not have known where to go. The mountain meeting that produced “go therefore and make disciples of all nations” was itself made possible by women who went and told.
“And Peter.” Mark’s angel singles out Peter by name. The man who denied Christ three times. The man who wept bitterly. The man who might have assumed the resurrection invitation did not include him. The angel says: tell the disciples AND Peter. Make sure Peter knows he is still included. The denial did not disqualify him. The tears did not exile him. The appointment in Galilee has his name on it.
On the Day of Resurrection, Mary Magdalene was the first to see the risen Christ and the first to carry the message: “I have seen the Lord.” On Hevoro Monday, the Emmaus disciples ran back to Jerusalem to tell the eleven. Today the women carry the specific instruction: Galilee. The mountain. He is going before you. The resurrection message is carried by the people the world considers least authoritative. Women. Grieving women. Women who came to a tomb expecting death. And the message they carry assembles the meeting that will change the world.
“He is going before you into Galilee.”
Proagei humas. He goes ahead. He is already there. Before the disciples arrive, Christ is waiting. The shepherd goes ahead of the sheep (John 10:4). The risen Lord does not follow the eleven to Galilee. He precedes them. He arrives first. He prepares the mountain. He sets the stage for the commission. By the time the eleven climb the hill, Christ is already standing at the top.
This is the pattern of the entire series. Christ goes ahead. He was at the well before the Samaritan woman arrived. He was in the synagogue before the bent woman walked in. He was at Zacchaeus’s tree before Zacchaeus climbed it. He was at Lazarus’s tomb before anyone came to mourn. He is always already there. The going-before is His nature. And the instruction to the women confirms it: He is going before you. You are not walking into the unknown. You are walking toward the One who is already waiting.
“When they saw Him, they worshipped Him; but some doubted.”
Hoi de edistasan. Some hesitated. Some wavered. Some were of two minds. The word does not mean “some disbelieved.” It means some were unsettled. Unsure. Standing on the mountain with the risen Christ in front of them and still not fully certain of what they were seeing.
This is the most honest sentence in the resurrection narratives. And the most comforting. The Great Commission is given not to a room full of confident believers. It is given on a mountain where some of the people present are not yet sure. The doubt and the worship coexist. On the same mountain. At the same moment. In the same group. Some worship. Some doubt. And Christ commissions all of them.
The women did not doubt. They obeyed. They ran from the tomb. They delivered the message. They assembled the mountain meeting. And the men who received the message arrived at the mountain and some of them doubted. The contrast is gentle but real. The women carried the appointment with urgency. The men received it with hesitation. And Christ used both. The women’s obedience and the men’s doubt. Both present on the mountain. Both part of the story. Both included in the commission.
On Day 35, the blind man’s faith was progressive. On Hevoro Monday, the Emmaus disciples’ hearts were slow. Today the eleven include doubters. The resurrection is not received uniformly. Some get there instantly (Mary). Some get there over seven miles (Emmaus). Some get there on a mountain while still wavering. And Christ does not wait for the doubt to resolve before He sends them. He commissions the doubters alongside the worshippers. Because the mission does not require perfect faith. It requires the willingness to go.
St. Cyril of Alexandria, in his Commentary on Matthew, teaches that the doubt on the mountain is not the opposite of worship. It is the companion of worship. He says: the person who worships without ever having doubted has not wrestled with the truth. The person who doubts without ever worshipping has not encountered the Person. The eleven on the mountain are doing both. And Christ accepts both. He does not rebuke the doubters. He does not separate the confident from the uncertain. He speaks to all of them. Because the commission is for people who are still becoming certain. Not people who have arrived.2
All Authority Has Been Given to Me (v. 18)
“And Jesus came and spoke to them, saying, ‘All authority has been given to Me in heaven and on earth.'” (28:18)
Before the command, the claim. Before “go,” the ground on which the going stands.
“All authority.” Pasa exousia. Every authority. Not some. Not most. All. In heaven and on earth. The two domains that encompass everything that exists. The heavenly realm where the angels worship. The earthly realm where the chief priests bribe. Both. All. Given to the risen Christ.
On Day 13, the people in the Capernaum synagogue were astonished because Christ taught with authority. On Day 28, He had authority over the bondage of Satan. On Day 30, He had authority over a legion of demons. On Day 32, He had authority over the sea. On Day 33, He had authority over death (the ruler’s daughter). On Day 41, He had authority over a four-day-old tomb (Lazarus).
Today all of those individual authorities are unified in a single declaration. Not “I have authority over disease” or “I have authority over demons” or “I have authority over death.” All authority. The comprehensive claim. Every form of power in every domain of existence. Given to the One who was crucified, dead, buried, and risen. The One who has the marks of the nails in His hands.
“Has been given to Me.” Passive voice. Given. By the Father. The authority is not seized. Not claimed. Not taken by force. Given. The Father has handed all authority to the Son. The same Father who said “this is My beloved Son” at the baptism. The same Father whose voice from heaven said “I have glorified it and will glorify it again” (Day 45). The Father gives. The Son receives. And the authority that has been given is the foundation of the commission that follows.
The chief priests have money. Christ has authority. The chief priests can buy a lie. Christ can commission a truth. The chief priests’ money will run out. Christ’s authority will not. The lie is “commonly reported until this day.” The truth is proclaimed until the end of the age. The contest between the money and the authority is the contest of the Hevoro Days. And the authority wins. Not by suppressing the lie. By sending people who have seen the truth.
Go Therefore (vv. 19–20a)
“Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all things that I have commanded you.” (28:19–20a)
“Go therefore.”
Poreuthentes oun. The “therefore” connects the commission to the authority. Because all authority is Mine, go. The going is grounded in the authority. You do not go on your own strength. You go on His authority. The eleven are not being sent as independent operators. They are being sent as ambassadors of the One who holds all power in heaven and earth. The sending and the authority are inseparable. Remove the authority and the sending is suicide. Remove the sending and the authority is sterile.
For fifty days, the Lenten fast was about receiving. Receiving the word. Receiving the grace. Receiving the Spirit. Receiving the bread. Receiving the washing. Receiving the recognition. Today the direction reverses. Go. The receiving is complete (for now). The giving begins.
On Day 30, the Gerasene demoniac was healed and wanted to stay with Christ. Christ said: go home and tell your friends.
On Day 35, the blind man’s testimony was “one thing I know: I was blind, now I see.”
On Day 50, Mary was sent: “go to My brethren.” Today the commission becomes universal.
Not “go to your friends.” Not “go to your village.” Go to all nations. Panta ta ethnē. Every people group. Every language. Every culture. Every corner of the world.
On Day 24 (Mid-Lent), the Cross was lifted to the four directions.
On Palm Sunday, the branches were blessed to the four corners. Today the commission reaches the four corners. East. West. North. South. The same universality. The same claim on every direction. The Cross, the blessing, and the commission all reach everywhere. No corner is exempt. No nation is excluded. All.
“Make disciples.”
Mathēteusate. The main verb. The central command. Not “make converts.” Not “make church members.” Not “make religious consumers.” Make disciples. Mathētēs. Learners. Followers. People who walk with the Teacher the way the eleven have walked with Christ for three years. People who learn by living alongside the Master. People whose entire life is shaped by the Rabbi’s teaching and the Rabbi’s presence.
The Lenten fast has been a discipleship programme. Forty-nine days of learning to follow. Of having the Scriptures opened. Of watching the Teacher wash feet and break bread and fall into the ground and rise. And now the programme turns outward. You have been discipled. Now disciple others. You have walked the road. Now walk alongside someone who is just beginning.
“Baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.”
The Trinitarian formula. The only place in the Gospels where all three Persons of the Trinity are named together in a single commission. The same Trinity the Lenten series has been exploring, often without naming it.
The Father: the potter who shapes (Day 29). The one who loved the world so much He gave His Son (Day 24). The one who said “I AM the God of Abraham” (Day 44). The one whose voice said “I will glorify it again” (Day 45). The one to whom the Spirit cries “Abba” (Day 37).
The Son: the grain of wheat that fell into the ground (Day 45). The light of the world (Day 35). The shepherd who lays down His life (Day 31). The one who washed feet (Day 46). The one who said “Mary” in the garden (Day 49). The risen Lord on the mountain today.
The Holy Spirit: the one who prays in us with groanings too deep for words (Day 37). The one who produces the fruit the flesh cannot manufacture (Day 38). The one who cries “Abba, Father” in our hearts (Day 37). The one who has been sustaining the fast from Day 1 without being named until Day 37.
The baptismal formula gathers all three. In one name. Not three names. One name. Eis to onoma. Singular. Because the Trinity is one God. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Three Persons. One name. One God. One baptism. One faith. One commission.
On Day 35, the blind man washed in the pool of Siloam and came back seeing. On Day 46, the feet were washed in the basin of the upper room. Today the washing becomes the universal sacrament. Baptism. The washing that makes disciples. The water that makes the nations into the people of the Triune God.
St. Ephrem the Syrian, in his Hymns on the Church, writes that the baptismal formula is the key that unlocks the entire mystery. He says when the priest says “in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,” the entire economy of salvation is compressed into one sentence. The Father who planned. The Son who executed. The Spirit who applies. Creation, redemption, and sanctification in a single breath. Three names that are one name. Three Persons who are one God. And the person who descends into the baptismal water in this name ascends as a citizen of the Kingdom the Trinity rules.3
“Teaching them to observe all things that I have commanded you.”
Teaching. Didaskontes. Not just baptising. Teaching. The baptism is the beginning, not the end. After the water, the instruction. After the washing, the walking. After the initiation, the lifelong learning.
“All things that I have commanded you.” All. Not a selection. Not the comfortable teachings. Not the convenient commandments. All. The Sermon on the Mount. The parables. The healings. The washing of feet. The bread and the cup. The grain of wheat. The “love one another.” The “forgive seventy times seven.” The “stretch out your hand.” All of it.
The Lenten series has been fifty days of “all things that I have commanded.” Every reflection has been an installment of the teaching the disciples are now commissioned to pass on. The series does not end with the fast. The series becomes the content of the commission. What we have received, give. What we have been taught, teach. What has been opened to us on the Emmaus road, open to others on their roads.
I Am With You Always (v. 20b)
“And lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” (28:20b)
The last sentence of the Gospel of Matthew. The final word. Not a command. Not a teaching. A promise.
“I am with you.” Egō meth’ humōn eimi. I, with you, am. The “I AM” from the burning bush. The “I AM” from the water (Day 32, “It is I; do not be afraid”). The “I AM” from the resurrection (“I am the resurrection and the life,” Day 41). The great I AM. With you. Present tense. Not “I will be with you” or “I was with you.” I am. Now. Always. Until the end.
“Always.” Pasas tas hēmeras. Literally: all the days. Not “in general.” Not “most of the time.” All the days. The days of confidence and the days of doubt. The days of worship and the days of wavering. The Monday when the road feels long and the bread has not yet been broken. The Tuesday when the institution is spreading lies and the truth seems outnumbered. The Wednesday when the light is fading and the grain is about to fall. All the days. Every single one.
“Even to the end of the age.”
The promise has no expiration date. It does not run out when the apostles die. It does not expire at the end of the first century. It covers every day of every age until the ages end. Which means today. Hevoro Tuesday. This day. This moment. The risen Christ with all authority in heaven and earth is with you. Right now. Not in the past. Not in the future. Now. I am with you. Today.
On Day 31, Christ went up the mountain to pray and the disciples were alone on the sea. Today Christ is on a mountain with the disciples and the promise is that they will never be alone again. The mountain of prayer and the mountain of commission are the same mountain. The God who withdrew to pray is the God who sends to preach. And the promise that binds both mountains is: I am with you. On the prayer mountain and on the commission mountain. In the withdrawal and in the sending. In the silence and in the speaking. All the days.
St. Macarius the Great, in his Spiritual Homilies, teaches that the promise “I am with you always” is the foundation of the entire Christian life. He says every prayer, every Qurbana, every act of service, every moment of the life of faith rests on this sentence. Without the promise, the commission is impossible. Without the presence, the mission is suicide. The disciples are not sent into the world alone. They are sent into the world accompanied. The One who holds all authority goes with the ones He sends. Macarius says: the missionary is never alone. The teacher is never unsupported. The preacher is never abandoned. Because the last word of the Gospel is not “go.” The last word is “I am with you.” And that word has not stopped being spoken.4
What Hevoro Tuesday Means
Yesterday was recognition. Today is commission. Yesterday was “did not our heart burn?” Today is “go therefore.” Yesterday was the road to Emmaus. Today is the road to the nations.
The two days together form the complete post-resurrection movement. First, you are found by the risen Christ. He joins you on whatever road you are walking. He opens the Scriptures. He breaks the bread. Your eyes open. Your heart burns. You recognise Him.
Then, you are sent. With His authority. In the name of the Trinity. To all the nations. Teaching everything He commanded. And carrying the promise that has no expiration: I am with you always.
The Lenten fast was the preparation. The Hevoro Days are the deployment. The forty-nine days trained you for the road. Now the road stretches in every direction. And the One who walked the Emmaus road with you yesterday walks the mission road with you today. And tomorrow. And every day until the end of the age.
But notice: the commission is given on a mountain where some doubted. The sending does not require the absence of doubt. It requires the presence of the Sender. You do not need to have resolved every question before you go. You need to have heard the voice that says “go.” And you need to know that the voice belongs to the One who has all authority and who promises never to leave.
Go. Not because you are ready. Because He is with you. Not because the doubt has vanished. Because the authority is greater than the doubt. Not because the lie has been defeated. Because the truth has been commissioned. And the truth is a Person. Walking with you. All the days. To the end of the age.
For Our Journey Today
Refuse the lie. The institution paid money to suppress the truth. Today, institutions still pay to suppress the truth. In the world and in the Church. The comfortable lie is always funded better than the inconvenient truth. Today, refuse the lie. Whatever form it takes. The lie that the resurrection did not happen. The lie that the fast changed nothing. The lie that you are the same person you were forty-nine days ago. The truth may be poorly funded. But the truth has authority. And authority outlasts money. Every time.
Go with your doubt. Some worshipped. Some doubted. Christ commissioned all of them. Today, if you are carrying doubt alongside your faith, do not wait for the doubt to resolve before you move. Go. With the doubt in one hand and the commission in the other. The sending does not require the absence of uncertainty. It requires the presence of the One who sends. And He is on the mountain. Whether you are worshipping or wavering.
Carry the promise. “I am with you always.” This is not a feeling. Not a metaphor. A promise. From the One who holds all authority. Today, carry it. Into the meeting. Into the conversation. Into the silence. Into the hospital room. Into the classroom. Into the relationship that needs repair. Into the road that feels too long. I am with you. All the days. Even this one.
Lord Jesus Christ, risen and ascended, who stood on a mountain in Galilee and said “all authority in heaven and earth has been given to Me” and then said “go,” we hear the commission today. We hear it as people who worship and people who doubt. We hear it as people whose hearts burned on the Emmaus road yesterday and whose feet are unsure on the mountain today. We hear it as people who have been found and are now being sent. Go. We will go. Not because we are ready. Because You are with us. Not because the doubt is gone. Because the authority is greater than the doubt. Not because the lie has been silenced. Because the truth has been commissioned. And the truth is You. Walking beside us. All the days. Through every nation. To the end of the age. Send us, Lord. With Your authority. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. One name. One God. One mission. One promise. I am with you always. That is enough. It has always been enough. By the prayers of the Most Holy Theotokos, the holy Evangelist Matthew, and all the saints, have mercy on us and save us. Amen.
Hevoro Tuesday. The Second Day of Brightness. A mountain in Galilee. Eleven disciples. Some worshipping. Some doubting. And a voice that says: all authority is Mine. Go. Make disciples. Baptise. Teach. And lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age. The last word of the Gospel is not “go.” The last word is “I am with you.” And that word has not stopped being spoken.
Patristic References
- St. John Chrysostom (c. 349–407). Homily 90 on Matthew, on Matthew 28:11–15. ↩︎
- St. Cyril of Alexandria (c. 376–444).Edition: Norman Russell, Cyril of Alexandria (Routledge, Early Church Fathers Series, 2000). Also On the Unity of Christ, translated by John McGuckin (St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, Popular Patristics Series, 1995). ↩︎
- St. Ephrem the Syrian (c. 306–373). Hymns on the Church (Madrāshē d-ʿal ʿEdtā). ↩︎
