Sometimes, I can’t believe Jesus was operating fully 1,950 years before the advent of television. He was such a master of the small screen. In the Gospel of John, the Easter story plays like an episode of the old British farce Benny Hill, with people running on and offscreen in what amounts to hospital johnnies, just missing each other and the truth. Mary Magdalene and Simon Peter and the disciple called “Beloved” scamper hither and thither, seeing and not seeing and wondering and being afraid while the audience laughs, because they are in on the joke. Jesus finally sneaks up behind Mary, who is crying because she can’t find his body. Woman, why are you weeping? Jesus asks her, even though he already knows the answer.