“Resurrection” John 20: 1-18

 A dear friend and I were recently talking about death. Now that may seem odd since we are both in our mid-30s. But its something that we face every day as part of our jobs. I as a pastor; she as a hospital chaplain. In the midst of our conversation we picked up the tread on how a lot of folks are distant from death today - not being with people to sing them home, sit with them as they take their final breaths, or know how to make decisions for a loved one after they die. 

That wasn’t true of Mary. Mary was inmate with death, especially over the last few days. She had been at the foot of the cross as Jesus breathed his very last. She had watched his body be removed. And now she was going to the tomb to pay her final respects. To wrap his body in spices and oils and to be in prayer. This was her vigil. This was her gift. 

The problem is that things did not go as planned. When she arrived at the tomb things weren’t as they were supposed to be. The stone sealing the entrance of the tomb had been rolled back; even worse the body was gone. 

There are lots of ways that different cultures show care and love to those closest to them that have passed. Sometimes they build the casket themselves. Or dig the grave. Sometimes they sit with the body, keeping watch from the time of death until the burial. This was what Mary’s culture would have allowed her to do - to anoint the body. And now her ability to show care has evaporated.

So she does the only thing that she can think of doing - she runs. She runs straight to the disciples - not caring what hour of the day it was. Running to get help - her new sign of care and love and respect. As soon as she comes to Simon Peter she says the only thing that she can think of “They have taken the Lord!”

By now the disciples feel, within them selves, the anxiety and fear that Mary shares. What has happened? Where did the body go? Who would do such a thing? Is this a cruel joke to add to the depths of their grief? 

So they too, run. Run to the tomb and find it empty. Empty except for the death shrouds. And all they could do was go home. To leave the tomb - empty.

But not Mary. Mary can’t bring herself to leave. Where was she to go? How was she to pay her last respects now? And her tears of all of the overwhelm of the last few days came out. 

As Mary wept, she found that she wasn’t alone. First, she saw two angels who asked her why she was crying. To which she replied the same thing as what she said to the disciples earlier in the day “they have taken my Lord.” When she turned to look away from the angels and tomb she found a man standing beside her. A man she did not recognize. A man she thought was the gardener. 

All that man had to do was say her name, “Mary”, and her eyes were opened to see what she never expected - her Lord, the one she had believed to be taken away just a few short hours ago, to be standing right in front of her alive!

We live in a very visual culture. We read words on the page. We see images on our TVs or phones. We spend a lot of time looking. But remember that wasn’t how it was back in the time of the Gospels. Even as the Gospels were written down, they were often read by one person to be heard by everyone else. It was an oral society - focusing on the connection between the ear and the heart. For as people would hear these profound stories of the faith they were invited to live into them - to think about their place in them. And to remember that they tell of people who lived out these experiences well before they were ever written down. 

I share that to try to get us out of our visual mindset and into our hearts this morning. Who do you identify with in this story? Have you ever had the grief of Mary? Or the fear and anxiety of the disciples? Have you ever had the feelings that Mary would have harbored towards whoever took Jesus’s body? Or the defeat of the disciples that led them back to the safety of their home?

When we stop and dwell in this story instead of simply receiving it - we realize that a lot of us have been there. We’ve tried to do something to honor a loved one that didn’t go as we wished. And there have been times we haven’t understood what was happening around us. And when we identify in that way, the truth of the Gospel becomes real in a new way. 

For it is out of the depths of dispare - over everything that had happened the past few days - that Mary was brought to a place of profound joy when she heard Jesus say her name. It is out of a place of not understanding what could have taken place that Mary full understands that her Lord, our Lord, is free from the grave. Mary opened up the door for us to face our own darkness with her weeping, and our deepest joy and fulfillment with her exclamation of “Rabboni!”

Mary came to the grave that day expecting one thing - to be able to grieve - but instead she found hope, joy, and freedom. She came to do a simple act of kindness and instead was restored. 

But all that Mary experienced that day was not meant to be kept to herself. Instead Jesus sent her out on a mission - to tell the disciples. And now her cry was no longer “They have taken the Lord” but instead became “I have seen the Lord”

Oh, friends. When we step into this story with hearts open today, that can become our cry as well. We may have come to worship today expecting one thing, but I wonder what Jesus is inviting you to instead? How is Christ calling you to find hope, joy, and freedom? And how is he preparing you to be sent out with that cry of our hearts - that we have seen the risen Lord!

Christ is risen.

Christ is risen indeed. 

Amen.