Letting Go Of Assumptions: Devotion for November 3

The Italian painter Savoldo was a master of subtle light and shadow—what artists call chiaroscuro. His works often depict sacred moments with a quiet realism that draws us in. In one of his most moving paintings, Mary Magdalene, we find the familiar figure identified by her jar of ointment and the faint shimmer of red fabric beneath her silvery cloak. Behind her lies a soft Venetian landscape—still, luminous, almost suspended in time.

The scene comes from John 20, where Mary stands outside the empty tomb, weeping. “They have taken my Lord away,” she says, “and I don’t know where they have put him.” A man nearby asks why she’s crying—who she’s looking for. It’s Jesus, though she doesn’t yet recognize him. The text says she “supposed him to be the gardener.” Only when he calls her by name does she finally see him for who he truly is.

Mary, because of her assumptions, almost missed him. She assumed he was dead. She assumed his body was gone. She assumed his promises of resurrection were too good to be true.

Scripture is full of people who made assumptions about God. Rachel believed her life had no meaning unless she bore children. The Israelites, newly freed from slavery, assumed God had led them into the wilderness to destroy them. Martha told Jesus, “If you had been here, my brother would not have died,” assuming his lateness meant he didn’t care.

And what about us? I know I’ve had my own mistaken assumptions about God. Sometimes I’ve treated him like a good luck charm—thinking if I prayed enough, served enough, or believed enough, he’d make my life turn out better. Other times, I imagined him as a strict babysitter, ready to scold when I failed. Or a demanding taskmaster, expecting more than I could ever give.

Who do you suppose God to be?

Mary’s story reminds us how easily our assumptions can blind us to the living Christ standing right in front of us. The invitation is simple: look again. Let go of the ideas that keep you from seeing him clearly. Listen for your name on his lips.

Being Human: He’s here. He’s alive. And he’s calling you to see him with new eyes.

Featured image: Giovanni Savoldo, Mary Magdalene, 1535-1540