Atom“Risen for You”
“Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb…”
John 20:1-18
I called my friend and one-time college roommate yesterday. Randy was a pastor in Pelican Rapids and is now Campus Pastor at MSUM. His wife Lorie is still a pastor in Pelican Rapids. I called him because we received word this week that Lorie’s cancer has shown up in a new place. Several months ago she had surgery. She had chemo treatments. They had hoped it was taken care of. But a test last week shows that it’s back. As Randy said, “It’s like a kick in the head. And the hard part is we don’t know exactly what we’re dealing with and how to respond. It’s kind of like finding your way in the dark.” We may know what that is like, finding your way in the dark…thinking you know where you are headed but not able to see much of what is before you, afraid of stumbling or even falling. If you’ve been there, finding your way in the dark, you can probably imagine Mary’s feelings as she made her way to the place of Jesus’ burial in the pre-dawn hours of Sunday morning.
Mary could barely make out the path as she made her way into the cemetery. The sun was still too far over the horizon to add much of any light to her journey and from time to time she found herself caught in the low brush that lined the pathway. No matter…whatever it took she was going to be at the grave when the sun rose. The Sabbath was finally over and now she could come to the place where they had laid his lifeless body; now she could finish the burial preparations that had been cut short because of the lateness of the hour on Friday; now she could care for him, clean the blood from his wounds, smooth his hair from his brow, pour soothing oils over the body that had been so wracked with pain. Even if he could no long feel her gentle care, at least she could care for him…at least she could be with him. Her eyes clouded and she felt hot tears running down her cheeks again. Why? Why? Why? Why had this happened? What was she going to do now without him? She didn’t know. Jesus had brought healing to her life, hope for her future. But that was all gone now. Her heart ache would not stop and the future as dark and murky as the pre-dawn morning. Mary stumbled then, and nearly fell. But she caught herself, paused to take a deep breath, and thought of what lay ahead. How was she going to get in the grave? She only hoped that the guards might help her with the great stone across the entrance.
Clutching her fragrant oils close, Mary made the last gradual ascent to the grave, straining to see in the half-light. And then she slowed her step and stopped. Something was wrong. The grave stood open, dark and foreboding. The great rock that had sealed it lay to the side, and the soldiers were nowhere to be seen. Her heart sank even lower than before. What had happened? Where were the guards? Heart pounding, she made her way to the entrance and cautiously looked inside. It was too dark to see well, but she thought she could see the linen wrapping that had covered Jesus’ body lying on the floor. Falling to her knees, Mary crawled now into the darkness, feeling on the floor for his body, and then on the low outcropping where they had laid him on Friday. But there was no body there, only empty grave clothes. Where was Jesus? Where had they taken him?
She scrambled out of the tomb and the next minutes were a blur as she stumbled back down the path and out of the cemetery. Somehow she found her way to the house where Peter and the others had been holed up since Friday. She pounded furiously and when they finally came to the door, she sobbed out the story, “They’ve taken his body,” she said. “I don’t know where.”
Peter didn’t say anything. He just bolted out the door, and one of the others went with him. Mary turned again and hurried after them, believing somehow that Peter would find the answer – that he would be able to tell her what had happened. When she finally caught up, they were at the grave. The light was better now, the sun just peaking over the horizon, but the additional light revealed no more than she had seen. The grave was empty. Peter and the other disciple leaned now against the rocky entrance, shaking their heads in disbelief. Jesus’ body was gone. There could be no denying it. Mary looked at them, begging them with her eyes to help her find this one who had given her life so much meaning. But after a moment Peter turned, eyes brimming with tears and brushed past her without a word. The other disciple also hurried silently past, leaving Mary alone again, in the awful stillness, staring into the darkness of an empty grave, and into a future even more bleak than it had been the day before.
We know what that is like, don’t we – we who walk this sphere we call earth. Like my friends, Randy and Lorie, we know what it is like to face an unknown future, to look into darkness not able to see what is to come. We know what it is like to be lonely, to be afraid, to fear death, to experience emptiness. We know what it is to lie awake in the predawn darkness remembering loved ones that we can no longer hold and feeling the deep loneliness of loss. We know what it is experience the awful silence of broken relationships, to fear the future because the home that was once warm and secure is now cold and divided. We know what it is to not be able to see what lies ahead, to not know where to turn for hope.
Mary turned again toward the empty grave. But when she entered this time it was not empty. There were strange men sitting where the body had lain and they said, “Woman, why are you weeping?” What a foolish question! Didn’t they understand what it was to lose a loved one, to lose that which gives life meaning? “They’ve taken my Lord away and I don’t know where he is!” She fairly shouted it, and then she began to cry with great heaving sobs and, turning, stumbled out of the tomb, and fell to her knees in the new morning light. A shadow fell across her and she was dimly aware of another figure standing above her. Again the question, still dumb, but – she realized – also full of concerned feeling: “Woman…why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” “What are you looking for?” “My Lord, she thought…and if I can’t have that…hope…a reason to keep on living.” She found her voice, her answer to the question this time softer, begging, “Sir…if you have carried him away, tell me where…” And then…she heard her name, spoken in a way she had never hoped to hear it again, “Mary,” he said, and her heart leaped and she turned toward the light and standing over her was Jesus – Jesus, the one who had been dead, whose broken and bruised body she had sobbed over on Friday, stood before her whole and strong and alive! “Rabbouni?” she breathed. How could it be? But it was!
Indeed…Jesus…the one who had died, the one whose awful passion has been portrayed for us in living color on the big screen – whose torture and crucifixion has been shown with such awful realism. By now most of us have seen the movie – or seen some movie about the death of Jesus. And if we saw “The Passion of the Christ,” – the Mel Gibson version – we were overwhelmed by the violence and the stunning depiction of flogging and crucifixion. I still remember sitting in the theater and thinking, “Even if Jesus had not been crucified, he would not have survived the flogging. That alone would have killed him.” No, Jesus’ death was no mere fainting spell from which he later recovered, as some doubters have suggested. Jesus was dead and buried – gone. But on Easter morning he was back. Mel Gibson gave us only a glimpse of this wonder of wonders - mere 30 second glimpse as we see the morning sun flooding the tomb and see a new, strong, living Jesus, leaving the tomb, steely eyes fixed not on the cross, but on a glorious future for all of humanity and creation. It was only a glimpse, but it is why Mel Gibson told the story, why Christians for 2000 years have told the story. It is why John told the story in his gospel. It is why history remembers Jesus as it does no other person. It is because on the third day after he died, Jesus walked out of the tomb and into the lives of Mary Magdalene and all the other Mary’s and Peters and Johns, and into the lives of some 500 witnesses who saw him and touched him and ate with him and experienced him alive in the days that followed and preceded his ascension to the heavens. It is why we gather here this morning. It is why churches around the world are packed on this day. It is because the astonishing good news of Easter invites us to make our way into the future – even the future darkened by death and fear – and find light and hope.
I believe that is why you are here this morning. I know it is why I am here. Because in this Jesus I find hope for every day that lies ahead, even the ones that I know will be dark. This Jesus who conquered death says to us, “I have also conquered death for you, and when your days here are done, I have more waiting for you than you can ever think or imagine!” In that promise is our hope when death comes calling, when we make our way through the sadness of losing those whom we love. “We grieve,” as the apostle Paul says in this letter to the Thessalonian Church, We grieve, “but we do not grieve as do those who have no hope!” We know that there is more yet to come! The resurrection of Jesus changes the future and makes its ultimate end clear for all who know him and trust him.
But there is more…there is more than a future with Jesus someday…somewhere…out there. There is also a now. In the growing light of a new day, Mary heard Jesus call her name. “Mary,” he said. “Rabbouni” (teacher), she breathed, and something is restored and something is made new. “Go to the others,” Jesus says, “and tell them.” In the gospels of Mark and Matthew, the angels say: “He will meet you in Galilee – where you live.” Not only is eternity a possibility, but so is a lasting relationship with a living Lord Jesus, a Jesus who will – as we read on in the gospel of John – breath his very life-giving, life-changing Spirit into the lives of those who follow him.” “I will meet you,” says Jesus. “And I will be with you.” Eternity is changed by the resurrection, but so is today. Jesus, the risen Son of God lives…and this risen Son of God lives also with me and with you!
This, friends, is the glorious good news of Easter that changes everything. This is the living Jesus who gives hope to my friends Randy and Laurie as they journey through the dark land of cancer. This, friends, is the living Jesus who walks with my friends Steve and Ranelle as they make their way toward the future without Steve’s Dad and who has long been a mentor and light. “He is with me,” Jesus says. “Your Dad is with me, and I will care for him. And I will care for you.” This is the Jesus who in the stillness calls to us again today as to Mary growing light of the garden: “Mary…David, Stephanie, Bill, Marlyn, Esther, Katie…I am alive and I am with you. Because I cannot be held, I can be with you wherever you are. I offer you strength when you are weak, assurance when you are afraid, wisdom when you searching, love when you are lonely. So, arise, tell my brothers and my sisters that I am alive…for them, and for you!”
He is risen! (He is risen indeed!) Please pray with me…
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