Easter April 4 2021

YouTube recording

Easter April 4 2021

John 20:1-18

 

It's been a long, hard year. We look to the next few months with hope, anticipation, and excitement as we see ourselves gathering again, as we see ourselves hugging and singing again. And I for one am so ready for all of that. And yet, as a person who has experienced personal grief, as have many of you, and a community and country that have experienced massive grief, it does us well to look back so that we can find the place we choose to be in today, and step into our future not with a wish for everything to be better, but real hope that all things will be well. Mary, in John’s story of Jesus’ death, will help us find ourselves and revel in the joy of resurrection and ascension. 

 

Let’s take a look at Mary and what she has to say to us and to the world. She comes to the tomb, after watching and witnessing Jesus’ death on the cross, believing this was the end of the run, the end of the story, the end of her life as well as Jesus’. Imagine her there. Mary, the outlier. Mary, scorned by most of Jesus’ friends as well as the culture in which she lived. Mary, who when she was with Jesus, mattered. When she was with Jesus her life held value and meaning. This Mary understood heartbreak. Many of us have watched a loved one die, but none of us have watched a death so violent as this death on the cross. Her sadness and grief were tremendous. We meet her here, at the tomb. She had come early in the morning after what must have been a sleepless night, only to discover that the body, the one she loves, was not there. She ran back to tell the others, they arrived at the tomb and confirmed what she had seen and yet, they returned home.  

 

Mary stood weeping. Mary stood weeping. Three little words, three little words that encapsulate so much of our reality. It could be any one of us, we have wept. We have wept for our loved ones, we have wept because our hearts have been broken as we have been absent, one from another. We have wept in disappointment. We have wept in frustration. We have wept in loneliness. We have wept at the oppression and mistreatment of people of color. We have wept in the midst of storm and fire. We have wept. These are holy tears, and they recall for us Jesus’ tears at the grave of his friend, Lazarus. 

 

Together with Mary we stand in this space that is filled with sadness, and with hope, and joy. Why do you weep? Who are you looking for?

 

Name them, name them as Jesus named Mary. Name those who we love but see no more. Bring joy and love into your heart as you see them, as you remember them, and you learn to fill your broken heart with their memory. Revel in the tears and the heartache.

 

And then, listen. Listen for the one who calls your name. In the darkness of that morning, Mary saw those angels in the tomb, and they wondered with compassion about her tears, she named her grief, they have taken him away, I do not know where he is. Crying in the darkness of that tomb, Jesus, stands before her, unrecognizable, and breaths, Mary. Mary. 

 

As you hear this, remember the other time we heard Jesus calling our names. When we are lost and cannot find our way. When we are broken and hurting and in need of healing. When we feel like we’ve come to the brink, and Jesus calls our name and brings us home. The shepherd calls our name, and we hear the voice of compassion and love. This is what Mary hears, this is what we hear. And contained in that name, Mary, is all of Jesus’ love for her, and for us. Jesus’ love saturates our grief. Mary is filled with the assurance that Jesus is right there with her, we are filled with the assurance that Jesus is right here with us, can we hear? Can we see?

 

Mary wants to hold on to Jesus, isn’t that what we want to do? When those we love die, we want to hold on in our grief. But Jesus is very clear with Mary that he will go, and after this very real resurrection Jesus will not leave her, or us, alone. And Jesus does not want Mary to hold on to him; he tells her to go and tell the others. And she announces to everyone, “I have seen the Lord”. 

 

There is power in these words of Mary. Power born of grief, power born of compassion, power born of brokenness. Mary, beautiful Mary Magdalen, was an outlier, her power was not as a result of authority or control, her power, maybe even her super power, was in compassion and sight, born out of derision. 

 

Mary’s words are spoken to those who follow Jesus, those who gathered in fear in the early hours of that first morning, and us, who gather in joy on this most beautiful Easter day. “I have seen the Lord.” The light is breaking through, the dark does not win. 

 

This is the way of Love, this is the path we are on, the path from darkness to light, the path from death to life. 

 

As we look back at where we have been, where have you seen the Lord? Who are the Mary’s who have called out to you, “I have seen the Lord?” Where have you seen compassion and love? Who has called your name? Is there someone who has grabbed your hand and pulled you back, and said, “you are loved?”

 

Mary’s words are stunning, they are filled with hope. You see, not only do we look back, and see all the times when we have seen the Lord, we stand in God’s presence today. I look out on all of you, and I can say, “I see the Lord.” I see the hands and feet of the one whose love causes us to love the Mary’s, the outliers. I see the hands and feet of the one whose love causes us to love one another. And I see the hands and feet of the one whose love causes us to say to all who have ears to hear, Alleluia, Christ is Risen. The Lord has risen indeed. Alleluia.