A sermon for Easter Sunday

Isaiah 25:6-9                      Acts 10:34-43                    John 20:1-18

What a Holy Week we have had! And here we are, at service 29 of 30, and Christ is risen – the foundation of our faith, the hope for the world, light in the place of darkness and life in the place of death. And what is there left to say? Well, let me make 4 observations from the story, and 4 challenges for us.

The gospel passage begins pretty frantically. Mary comes to the tomb and saw the stone was removed. She runs to tell someone, meets two disciples on the road and the three of them run back to the tomb. One runs faster, gets there first, finds it empty, ‘believes’ (although the gospel writer doesn’t say what they believe, because they don’t understand that Jesus has risen so…??) and then they go home.

And then everything becomes calmer, more tender, and it becomes Mary’s story with her Lord, and it is beautiful. She sees Jesus. She doesn’t know it is him. She mistakes him for the gardener and then she hears her name, and she knows. And she falls at his feet and worships. Jesus tells her – don’t hold onto me, go to my brothers, give them this message and Mary announces to the rest – I have seen the Lord. The resurrection is proclaimed, and the world is changed.

And as I reflected on these words, these extraordinary events, here is what I noticed – 4 things Mary did, 4 actions for us to imitate.

Mary went

Mary wept

Mary worshipped

Mary witnessed

Mary went while it was still dark. She went to tend and care for the one she loved. She went to the place of darkness and death. She went where others were too fearful to go. She went, even though going had potentially dangerous consequences. She went, and nothing could keep her away.  And because she went, she was there when the light of the world really dawned. 

She went and she wept – she wept at all that was lost and all that needed to be found. She wept for all she had hoped for and for all she thought would never be fulfilled.  She wept for her loss and at the imagining of what life would be like without Jesus.

And Mary worshipped – She heard her name, safely from his mouth, just as she did when he first set her free.  She knew he was back, that death hadn’t won, and she worshipped at his nail-scarred feet.  But she didn’t stay there. She knew that his rising, that this new, free, world of life and light meant that she had work to do and she got up and set to work right away.

She heard his command, and she went and witnessed to all she had seen and heard.  She took her gold-prize message of life forever, her message of salvation that stuck two fingers up at sin and death and suffering; she didn’t tuck it away, securely in her heart; she ensured she witnessed to it everywhere she went. Let it burst out of her lips, that the world might be changed.

Mary went – to the garden

She wept – at the tomb

She worshipped – the risen Christ

And she witnessed – to everyone she met

And this is our example, as we try to follow the risen Christ.

‘Early, on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene went…’ to the place of true darkness and death.  Where are the dark places we might need to go?  Will we go? And are we confident we will find Jesus there?

When Mary got there, she wept.  Of course she wept.  Her hope was well and truly gone; not only was he dead but they had also taken him away.  There was nothing left, no body left. And she wept. Sometimes, weeping is the right and appropriate response.

What makes us weep?  What situations feel so desperate, so impossible to solve, that all we can do is weep?  When we weep, can we consciously take that despair and heartbreak to Jesus? Can we find the hope that our weeping will be received, comforted, even resolved in him?

And then she heard her name, spoken so familiarly, and she knew it was her Jesus and she worshipped; rabbouni, teacher, let me hold on to you; my refuge; my place of safety.  Her despair was gone, her hope was restored, and her response was worship. Do we take our despair and tears to Jesus and, as they are lifted from us, do we respond in worship? And have we ever heard him speak our name as we do?

As Mary’s weeping turned to worship, so she heard her Lord’s voice, and she heard the specific instructions that were hers to fulfil.

‘Do not hold onto me…go to my brothers and give them this message…’

And she witnessed to her brothers, and to the rest of the world, the truth that she knew to be true. She witnessed to those who were languishing in grief and darkness.  She witnessed to those in locked rooms and with fearful hearts.  She witnessed to those who were defeated by death.  She witnessed with words that change everything ‘I have seen the Lord’.

Have we each seen the Lord?  Have we seen Him, in the bread and wine, in the faces of each other, in the readings and the hymns; have we seen him, and will we witness to others that we have seen the Lord?

Mary went, she wept, she worshipped, and she witnessed.

And may she be our example, that we too may go in search of Jesus, weep at darkness and despair, wherever we find it.  May we worship when we see Christ’s transforming power and bear witness to others. 

And if none of this makes sense to you, if you have no idea what it means to go or weep or worship or witness, talk to me or someone else you trust. Because, like Mary, many of us have seen the Lord too, and long to witness to this message of light-over-darkness and life-over-death.

Alleluia Christ is risen!

He is risen indeed, alleluia!

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