Mark 16: 1-8 - Sunrise

The Sabbath is over. The day of rest. But Mary couldn’t rest her mind during the day. All she could think of was the body of her Lord, the one she had followed for so long. She knew that his body was safe, but she wanted to care for it properly. To anoint it with spices and re-wrap it with linen. 

Proper. None of this seems proper. He was dead. Jesus was dead. She could barely bring herself to say it out loud. She had watched just a week earlier as he had road the colt through Jerusalem. Now. Now they had killed him. The same crowds that had welcomed him had cried for him to be crucified. The disciples had fled. All except John. 

The other Mary was with her - Jesus’ mother - this morning. What was running through her mind? Was she thinking about when Jesus was born in a stable? Or about him growing up and her accidentally leaving him behind in the temple? Or was she thinking of just a few days ago, watching her son die such a needlessly brutal death and just before his final breath her son entrusting her into the care of John. 

No one spoke as they walked through the darkness of day, carrying their spices. Going to anoint the body of their friend, their son, their teacher who had died too young. As they got closer to the tomb someone raised their voice, breaking the silence, “Who is going to roll the stone away?” 

Oh the stone. The stone that the Roman guards had placed over the entrance so that no one would steal Christ’s body. Did they really think they would do that? That Christ’s disciples who didn’t even have the courage to watch him die would steal his body? Didn’t they know Jewish custom? That touching a dead body would make them impure? No touching the body was women’s work, and the women certainly weren’t going to steal his body. Now that foolish stone was blocking them from what they had set out to do. 

No one answered. The question just hung in the air. Then as they reached the tomb, it became a non-issue. The stone was rolled away. A stone that would have taken several men to move was rolled away. The women bravely top another step forward, entering the tomb, where they saw a young man in a white robe.

What was he doing there? Who is this one who they had never met? He spoke those words that haunted Mary the mother of Jesus and James, “Don’t be afraid.” The same words of the angel Gabrielle. The words that seemed to echo that if they should be anything they should be afraid, for their lives were about to be turned upside down. 

And sure enough as he continued their worlds were altered - Jesus is risen! Jesus’ body was no longer there. There was no ritual cleansing and anointing to perform. For he had risen. Just like Lazarus! And they were to go tell Peter and the other disciples this news - news they could hardly believe. Oh Lord, help their unbelief. 

So the women went forth from the tomb, first in a daze then in a panic followed by a rush of excitement. They went forth as the first evangelists to proclaim the good news - Jesus, Jesus was not dead. He was risen. How could this be? He is risen! What does this mean? He is risen! How will we react when we go forth from this place? Will we too proclaim that he is risen?