"The Resurrection of Our Lord" - Easter Sunday

"All of life is grief...." My friend's voice was gentle, but her words jolted me. I opened my mouth to protest, but something stopped me in my tracks. I closed my mouth, pursed my lips, and nodded silently because those words had stirred up a truth somewhere deep within me. "Yes," I thought. "Life is laced with grief, AND at the same time, our grief is born of love, and so, it's all woven together with beautiful strands of love and hope and faith. That's what gives life meaning, and that's what allows us to know deep and abiding joy even in the midst of great suffering."

"All of life is grief...." Those words resonate for me because on a personal level I find myself squeezed between a rock and a hard place - between the rock of my older sister's death in late December and the hard place of a dear friend's recent diagnosis of terminal cancer.... On Good Friday, our friend, Golden, the Methodist pastor who visited us here at Zoar just two weeks ago, received the devastating news that even with aggressive chemotherapy, he likely has less than a year to live. Yesterday evening some friends texted to say that Golden was in good spirits and was completing prep for his Easter sermon. I was amazed and texted back, "Wow. I imagine that will be a powerful Easter sermon.... In fact, his showing up to preach is in itself a message of resurrection faith!..." Also yesterday, as I was working on my own sermon and thinking about Golden, I suddenly remembered my gold Easter stole, and I thought, "This year I’m wearing my gold stole not only in celebration of the resurrection, but also in honor of our friend, Golden, whose parents chose the perfect name for him!..."

"Friends, I'm sure those words - "all of life is grief - also resonate for many of you in those times when you find yourselves squeezed between a rock and a hard place  In recent months, I've been walking and talking with a number of you,

who are dealing with a wide variety of personal challenges while also living in this increasingly unstable and frightening world. As a result, I'm becoming ever more aware of the grief that fills each of us and the grief that surrounds all of us. During my recent home visits, I found it especially poignant when 100-year-old Ed, 99-year-old Leland, and 95-year-old Gladys all wanted to pray for our country and for our world. And I have to confess that sometimes it's very hard because as your pastor I just want to fix everything and make it all better, but I can't. What I can do is be present to listen and to offer God's gifts of prayer and Holy Communion.... And I want you to know that as difficult as these experiences and conversations often are, I'm filled with gratitude because it's a holy privilege to accompany one another and to share the faith that raises us up to new life.

"All of life is grief...." In today's gospel story, Mary Magdalene doesn't say those words out loud, but I have no doubt she feels them in the very marrow of her bones. Caught between the insurmountable rock that is Jesus's tombstone and the unfathomable hard place of a life without her beloved Teacher, the only thing Mary knows is that she needs to be as close as possible to where Jesus's body lies. So, in the wee, dark hours before anyone else is up and about, she quietly slips out of the house and makes her way to his grave. But when she arrives in the garden, she gets quite the shock! Her heart sinks when she sees that the huge stone has been removed from the entrance to Jesus's tomb because she believes someone has stolen his body. Without actually looking into the tomb, she runs to tell Peter and the unnamed Beloved Disciple the disturbing news that someone has apparently broken into Jesus's tomb. The narrator tells us that the two men get up and run to the garden to see for themselves. Then, after peering into the tomb, they immediately go home - presumably, to ponder and pray about what they've seen. But for now, I want to focus on Mary Magdalene because I find the story of her encounter with the Risen Jesus particularly compelling for us today.

So, after Peter and his companion leave the garden, Mary finally peeks into the entrance of the tomb, and through her veil of tears she sees something quite unexpected: In place of Jesus's body, there are two angels who ask her, "Woman, why are you weeping?..." Ok, I'm curious: In listening to this story, have you ever noticed that the angels in John's gospel DON'T say to Mary, "Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but has been raised, just as he said?!..." Instead of proclaiming the resurrection, the angels ask Mary, "Why are you weeping?" Now, I don't know about you, friends, but personally, I find that incredibly moving. I mean, angels are messengers from God, and these angels actually see Mary. Not only do they see her, but their words meet her right where she is: right in the middle of her deeply messy human grief.... I also can't help wondering: Have you ever noticed that Mary doesn't seem to realize she's talking with angels that is, with divine .messengers from heaven?!... Mary is so traumatized that her reply almost sounds as if it's on autopilot, "They've taken away my Lord, and I don't know where they've laid him...." And yet, as the story continues to unfold in the growing light of that first Easter morning, the reality of what's taken place gradually begins to dawn on her....

Mary turns away from her vision of angels and sees something even more remarkable: She sees Jesus standing next to her, BUT she doesn't know that it's Jesus! Before she can speak, Jesus asks her the very same question the angels have just posed, "Woman, why are you weeping?" And then, without missing a beat, Jesus also asks, "Who are you looking for?..."... Mary, who's still desperately searching for a dead body, presumes that this very-much-alive fellow beside her must be the gardener, so she begs him to bring her Jesus's body. In response, Jesus cuts through her grief by calling her name, "Mary!" And in that instant, Mary recognizes him because no one else can say her name the way Jesus does!... When she hears him call her name, Mary utters a joyful cry of recognition, "Rabbouni !..." Notice that she doesn't call him "Jesus"; instead, she addresses him with the Hebrew word meaning "Rabbi" or "Teacher." This tells us that Mary knows she belongs to Jesus's flock and that she's been called and commissioned to be his disciple.... This passage hearkens back to Jesus's teaching in John 10, where he declares, “My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand"¹

In a very real sense, "all of life IS grief..." And yet, as I said earlier, our grief is woven together with golden strands of love and hope and resurrection faith. That is what creates the beautiful tapestry of our lives. And no one understood the truth of this mystery better than Mary Magdalene, who went looking for the dead body of Jesus, but was found by the Risen Christ. Jesus came to meet Mary in the depths of her grief, but he didn't leave her there; instead, he raised her up to new life: first, by reminding her of her identity as a beloved disciple, and then by commissioning her to go and share the amazingly good news that in the end God's Way of love and life will always triumph over empire's way of division and death...

Friends, as I reflect on our Easter gospel, it occurs to me that what was true for Mary Magdalene back in the day is also true for you and me in our day:

Sometimes when we're standing in that gap

between the rock and the hard place,

lost in our grief and all alone,

an amazing thing happens:

the Risen Jesus comes and finds us -

just as we are, in the midst of our messy human grief.

And when he finds us,

he looks on us with compassion and love,

asking us the very same questions

he once asked Mary in the garden:

"Why are you weeping? Who are you looking for?"

Jesus, our Good Shepherd,

comes to find us over and over again,

as many times as it takes,

because he wants to gather all his sheep

and bring every one of us safely into the fold....

Not only does Christ come to us over and over again,

Christ also comes to us in many and various ways

because each of us is a unique child of God

who comes to faith in our own way.

Friends, as you navigate your own life challenges

While living amidst the cruel chaos of this world,

I urge you to let yourself be held and carried

by the gift of Christ's loving presence with us:

Let yourself be held and lifted up

by the Word of God as it speaks to you

through your personal prayers;

through the witness of Scripture;

through the stories of our ancestors in the faith;

through our worship in Word and Sacrament;

through loving and serving neighbor and stranger;

through our life in community and in creation;

and through those rare and wonderful mystical experiences

that comfort and challenge us

to follow in the compassionate and courageous Way of Jesus.

So, now I'm going to pivot and tell a personal story,

but before I do, I have to make a confession:

Up until a couple of days ago,

I didn't really want to preach this next part of the sermon.

You see, over the past couple of weeks,

I've sensed the Holy Spirit prodding me

to share a powerful, personal story with you.

And at first, I pushed back, saying,

"But Spirit, I already told that story once at Zoar,

and I don't think it's a good idea to repeat a story like that…"

"Well,! do!," said the Spirit.

"You told that story eight years ago - not long after you came to Zoar-and there are a lot of new people who haven't heard it.

Besides that, some of the folks who heard it back then might hear it differently now              "

I sighed and said, "Okay, Spirit, you win."

"I always do!," said the Spirit.

(She can be a kind of snarky like that!)

So, here's the preface to my story:

One Friday morning eleven years ago,

a week before Good Friday,

I had a powerful experience of Christ's presence....

I knew I needed to handle it carefully and prayerfully,

so, I kept it to myself for a week.

Then on Good Friday, a week later, I told two friends about it.

After talking it over with them,

I decided to include the story in my Easter message

at Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church in Vancouver that year...

I've told the story twice since then:

once when I was serving

at Creator Lutheran Church in Clackamas

and once here at Zoar.

So, this will now be the fourth time I've told this story,

and though I know some folks might think I'm nuts,

I know that what I experienced was real,

so, I'll take the risk of being a fool for Christ any day

I also know that the message I received is meant to be shared, because while the resurrection may be personal, it's never private!

The resurrection of Jesus Christ is Good News that's meant to be shared!....

Now, here's my story:

On that particular Friday eleven years ago, nine days before Easter,

I'd just awakened and was lying on my side in the semi-darkness.

Robert, my early-riser husband, had already walked the dog,

and, as usual, he opened the door to let her back into our room.

I heard the click-click of her claws and the jingle of her tags

as she plopped down on her dog bed on the other side of the room....

But then I noticed something a bit unusual.

I had my back to the bedroom door, but I hadn't heard it shut,

and I sensed that it was still open.

{I was a little surprised and maybe just a trifle annoyed,

because Robert always closes the door, so that I can sleep a bit longer, if I want)

Anyway, I lay there thinking, "That's kind of weird.

Why did he leave the door open?

There's light coming into the room…"

At that very moment, I perceived a Presence behind me,

and I heard a voice call to me in a whisper.

I couldn't make out what the words were,

but they were spoken so lovingly, so tenderly,

I thought it was my husband.

I wondered, "Why is Robert standing a couple of feet behind me like that?

Why doesn't he come closer, if he wants my attention?..."

Finally, I rolled over to look...

and was surprised to find that the door was, in fact, closed,

and no one was there! ...

And yet I know that Someone was there!...

I know that Christ was present there:

I felt his presence assuring me that I am loved and that I don't need to be afraid....

Beyond that, I also know

that Christ was there to give me the very same message for you: "Don't be afraid, because you are loved    "

My friends, I've never been more convinced of anything than this: God in Christ Jesus loves you and me more than we could ever know, and God doesn't want us to be afraid of God....

My friends, Christ is risen,

and he's alive and present with us and for us...

and that means that anything is possible

On this Easter morning,

many of our neighbors find themselves squeezed between a rock and a hard place. Many are weeping,

and many are looking for Christ.

So, as you and I step over the threshold to go back to our daily lives,

may we, like Mary Magdalene, be bold witnesses.

to the loving, liberating, life-giving power

of Christ's resurrection.

May we live in a way that lifts up

those who are lost and lonely --

those who are cast down and cast out –

so that they may come to know Christ and the abundant life that is in him.

After all, what good is it that the tomb is empty, if the people of God aren't filled to overflowing with the Spirit of our Risen Lord?!

Christ is risen. Christ is risen indeed! Alleluia

¹John 10:27-28

"The Resurrection of Our Lord"