One of the great underreported sins of New Testament scholarship is the problem that, unless we’re told by the writers, there is no way to tell whether specific interpretive units like the lord’s supper or the empty tomb have their origins as historical memory, lie, rumors, dreams, visions, hearsay, etc. We know in the case of Paul the Lord’s Supper wasn’t practiced until after Jesus’ death because it has its origin in a vision Paul had, because Paul tells us. There are numerous explanations as to the origin of Mark’s empty tomb story (which isn’t in Paul), and Galbraith suggests it could have been a vision:

Taking indigenous vision ontologies seriously leads us to reevaluate the formal characteristics of Mark 16:1–8 in their entirety. Form-critical analyses of Mark 16:1–8 seldom account for more than a few of its features. Holly Hearon for example offers a minimal structure, describing its form as a typical narrative with a beginning, middle and end. For David Catchpole, the angelus interpres and the women’s reaction of “fear and silence” (16:5, 8) show that it “belongs to the structure of epiphany.”56 Martin Albertz and Dale Allison each identify an original Christophany behind the angel’s message in Mark 16:5–6.57 Gerd Lüdemann points out that there is more than one element of vision reports present in Mark 16:1–8, for “the angel does not just interpret but at the same time proclaims, and the women are terrified at his appearance.” Jane Schaberg offers the most comprehensive argument for viewing Mark 16:1–8 as a visionary experience. She argues that Mark 16:1–8 takes the form of an apocalyptic vision, identifying a long list of similarities between Mark 16:1–8 and Dan 7: the initial grief situation; the strange vision; the resulting amazement; the explanation by an angelic interpreter; a commission to tell others; and the final terror and silence. While this lengthy list suggests extensive overlap between the empty tomb narrative and apocalyptic vision narratives, it struggles to explain why Mark 16 lacks distinctively apocalyptic features. I argue that the entire form of Mark 16:1–8 comes closest to the form of an ancient vision report, a form found with remarkable consistency in the ancient Near East, Judea, early Christianity, at Qumran, and in Philo and Josephus. Mark 16:1–8 follows, in all essential details, the typical message vision report’s threefold form—introduction (16:1–3), central body (16:4–6[7]), and ending (16:8)—and contains most of the distinctive vision motifs found in each part. I briefly outline the vision motifs found in every one of the three main sections of Mark 16:1–8. The reference to the women in Mark 16:1 identifies the visionaries, reflecting the fact that cross-culturally women are overrepresented among visionaries. The liminal timing is stereotypical of night visions, the most prevalent time for hypnopompic visionary experiences common in REM sleep. The reference to this time in Mark 16:2 is overdetermined and lacks logical consistency, a frequent feature of visionary logic. It is described both as lian prōi (a time before dawn) and as anateilantos tou hēliou (after the sun had already risen). Supernatural visions are often triggered by trauma, and although not mentioned by Mark it is clearly implicit in the violent death of Jesus and subsequent mourning rites. Yet it could equally fit with participation in an early Christian ritual centered on reenacting Jesus’s death, such as the Last Supper rite, which offered mystical unification with Jesus in his death. If the latter is the case, the women’s vision of an empty tomb might plausibly date many years after Jesus’s burial. The number of verbs of sight throughout the vision body in verses 4–7 is striking and also indicative of its visionary source: anablepsasai, theōrousin, eidon, ide, and opsesthe. The young man in white clothing who delivers knowledge of Jesus’s resurrection to the women (16:5) is plausibly an angelic messenger, as expected from Hellenistic Jewish message dreams and visions. Finally, the peculiar ending in Mark 16:8 makes good sense as the stereotypical response of dreamers and visionaries: they are filled with terror and are dumbfounded, almost ubiquitous reactions that in the vision-report genre serve to confirm the veridical nature of a divine vision. The whole of Mark 16:1–8, therefore, in structure, content, and language, conforms most closely to the typical form of an ancient vision report… Moreover, when we are dealing with a visionary community, there are probably many “known unknowns”: traditions that originated from visionary sources but which in their current form no longer contain clear indicia of visionary experiences. The early Jesus movement valorized their visionary sources as a royal road to the knowledge of some of the most important episodes in their biographies of Jesus. What was really worth saying about Jesus would be known from visions. For these reasons, visionary sources disrupt modern attempts to distinguish what is veridical and nonveridical within early Jesus traditions. (Galbraith, Deane. RELIGION, VISIONS, AND ALTERNATIVE HISTORICITY in Crossley, James; Keith, Chris. The Next Quest for the Historical Jesus (pp. 235-270). Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.. Kindle Edition. 2024)

Others like Walsh and Price have noted the empty tomb story is most like the apotheosis or “becoming a god” theme in ancient literature. I would note the young man in the tomb probably isn’t an angel but rather the naked young follower of Jesus from earlier in Mark who was as guilty as the naked Adam in the world’s eyes but is vindicated and clothed in victory in the tomb because God resurrecting Jesus also showed the innocence of Jesus’ followers in God’s eyes.