Sunrise Service

Sermon April 8, 2012

John 20:1-18

“Wow!”

Each one of us deals with loss and sorrow, with joy and celebration differently. Some folks are so different from us that we can't imagine why they do what they do; some folks, we seem to understand, at least a little bit.

A friend told me the story of a man whose father died. The man was a grief counselor, someone who dealt with loss on an almost daily basis. At his father's funeral, he wept and cried loudly. His sorrow was clearly expressed. Some of his family members wondered why, if he was such an expert on grief that he didn't handle his own better. Why couldn't he keep himself in better control? His answer to them, had he not been crying, loudly and well, was that he was handling his grief appropriately. He was sad; he was mourning; he was full to overflowing with sorrow and tears and he was showing it. Instead of making other people comfortable when he had suffered the loss of his father, he did what came naturally to him. He cried.

Each person in Jesus' life also expressed their grief at his loss in different way. His disciples who were men, the gospels say, hid in the room where they'd eaten the Passover with him. They were, it seems, completely stunned by the events of the week. Jesus, who had been their leader and upon whom they had hung their hopes for leadership, freedom and life was dead and gone. They had walked and talked with him, learned from him and followed his commands to preach and teach for a short while. Where would they go now?

The women who followed Jesus as disciples, are also described in the gospel stories. They stood and watched in the distance according to some; they stood at the foot of the cross according to one telling. And they were also concerned with caring for Jesus' body in death, as they may have cared for his food and shelter when he was alive. The women in a Jewish community had this duty in death, they would wash and anoint the dead for burial. But Jesus died, according to the gospels, just a few hours before the Sabbath began and was put into a tomb just before dark on Friday, so until after sundown on Saturday nothing could be done. And they would not venture into the place where the dead were buried until dawn on the next day. Then they would finish their care of his body, to anoint him properly and say their final goodbye.

But instead, that early Sunday morning so long ago, the women who came for one last goodbye were met with mystery. In John's gospel it is Mary Magdalene alone who came to the garden and found that Jesus was missing. And the Peter and the Beloved disciple come to check out her story, also finding Jesus' missing. When they don't see him, they return home, to continue their wait, perhaps? But Mary stays and weeps at this second, unaccountable loss. On top of the crucifixion, on top of the death of her teacher, she can't even mourn him properly—as she had intended.

The angels appear, telling her what to expect. Then Jesus himself speaks to her, “Mary!” And she calls him, “Teacher!” But he tells her that the story isn't quite over, he has more to do, she'll have to do her part and tell the others, while he finishes what he has to do and take his place in the world to come.

The disciples don't seem to believe her story—and have no evidence. Their experience of Jesus takes place elsewhere. They know Jesus as a part of their experience of one another. And they only experience the risen Jesus when they are gathered together as a community.

Mary's grief was expressed by her need to care for Jesus; in John's gospel she cam alone to see him one more time. And when she was alone, she saw him and he spoke her name. Jesus knows his own and calls them by name and Mary was one of his own who recognized his voice and knew him, too.

The gospel story establishes her as the first witness and the first to preach the good news of the resurrection of Jesus. Her witness was established by Jesus' voice calling to her, when he spoke her name, perhaps when she recognized the love, the care and the joy in his voice. Then and only then could she see him and recognize his face.

When we stand facing death, no matter how we do it, how we respond—in demonstration of our loss or in stoic reserve. We can remember that death is not the end, that death does not win and that God has made life the ultimate goal.

This is the good news! The good news, preached first by Mary, preached by millions who claim a risen Christ as Lord and Savior. Amen.