Scripture: John 20: 1–18
The Gospel of John comes to its end with these words after Jesus’s resurrection:
“These things have been written down so that you might believe.”
As if to say, “we wrote this down because we couldn’t have made this wild story up, and if we hadn’t been there ourselves, we might have trouble believing it ourselves.”
The story of Jesus, from his birth in a manger to his death on a cross, is an incredible tale. In that spirit, here’s an informal list of a few things about the Jesus story, in no particular order:
- Jesus performed miracles; he walked on the surface of the Sea of Galilee.
- Jesus’s favorite teaching tool was telling people stories with many possible meanings — stories about agriculture, and animals, and money — and then he let people arrive at the meaning on their own.
- Jesus’s life before he turns thirty is mostly a mystery to us.
- Jesus repeatedly retreated into the wilderness when he needed rest.
- Jesus made friends easily, sometimes just by saying the words “follow me.” And sometimes the people who he healed and comforted dropped everything and joined his traveling community of idealists who together developed new ways of being a community, despite the ever-present dominating shadow of the Roman Empire.
Friends, we have been there on the road with this Jesus this Holy Week. We have ridden into Jerusalem with him on Palm Sunday, and anointed Jesus’s feet with Mary Magdalene on Maundy Thursday in Memorial Hall; we have denied knowing Jesus three times with Simon Peter on Good Friday at the Church of the Epiphany; and we have spent Holy Saturday preparing to welcome the new light of Easter, as we did last evening with a fire pit in the pine grove outside the church. Having followed the story from its soaring heights into the dark night of its soul, we are celebrating today, the rising of Jesus into a fullness of life beyond this life.
It is good to take time to celebrate! The fact that we are here this morning among friends, joined together in one spirit is reason enough!
We celebrate even knowing that, though the Roman empire could not silence Jesus, the emperor, and the governor, and the king are still in power; Jesus has risen, but Jesus’s hope for a heaven on earth is not yet realized.
We celebrate today even as our hearts are heavy from losses in our community and the unraveling of justice in our world.
I started in ministry at Newman Church six weeks ago, on Ash Wednesday. And I’m so grateful for the partnership, energy, and accompaniment I have seen and received; there is certainly a still-speaking God pouring forth truth and light among us, and I am so glad for it. I can’t wait to see what the next six weeks will bring, because quite literally, everything I have done since Ash Wednesday has been pointing to Easter . . . and here we are at Easter. So, it begs the question: where do we go from here?
The scripture that we read today begins to provide an answer. It starts focusing on two of Jesus’s followers: Mary Magdalene and Simon called Peter. These two provide models that may serve us well as a church community in the days ahead.
We’ve talked a lot about Mary Magdalene this Holy Week. She is at every major event at the end of Jesus’s life and she sees things that other people do not see. Mary still seems to always know and understand what Jesus is experiencing. Even as her role in Jesus’s story is downplayed by Gospel writers and ignored in Paul’s letters, her perceptiveness in the midst of his crisis is clearly a comfort to Jesus. As the reading says, “Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb.” She is going to Jesus’s tomb after he has died in order to again anoint his body and care for her friend, because even in his death, she has seen how he has transformed their world, and perhaps she knows deep inside herself that is still more to happen in this Jesus story; that death will not have the last word. Mary Magdalene sees things that the others do not see. Perhaps that’s why it’s fitting that her name means tower.
Peter comes running to the tomb after Mary Magdalene tells him that Jesus’s body is missing, and he doesn’t pause a beat before rushing into the tomb. This is Peter’s style — act first and think later. Jesus had renamed Simon with the name Peter which means rock. We often think this is because Peter is the strong, dependable foundation Jesus wanted in a disciple. But it’s equally likely that Jesus started calling Peter “the Rock” as a term of endearment after Simon Peter sank like a stone on a lake when Jesus calls him to walk on the water. Peter is adventurous, daring, always game, and fully responsive to Jesus’s call. Jesus is not looking for perfection, or even skill in Peter, or in any of us. He’s looking for someone who will struggle, and then keep going. Peter rushes in to the tomb, is dumbfounded by the miracle he sees, and then goes home (because he’s always hurrying to the next thing).
Mary stays, and lets the day develop, and in her patience, Jesus appears to her.
Mary Magdalene and Simon Peter, the tower and the rock, are the twin pillars of the Jesus tradition. Imperfect, but balanced together. One with keen insight, but who other people overlook, and one who struggles constantly and flounders, yet never stops trying with everything he has. They are the two who figure out for their community how to go on after the first Easter. None of us can do this alone.
As a community, we can show up in places, like Mary, even when it seems like all hope is lost. We are shocked at what we see and our hearts may grow weary. We may not notice Jesus standing already in our midst. It may take a few moments of conversation and connection to recognize the sacred when we find it. But when we notice it, we should jump right in like Peter, even if it means trying to walk on water and not quite getting it the first time. We should stay engaged, like Mary, and then go share our joy with others.
This is the story of our faith.
This is the story of our lives.
So let us celebrate, let us mourn, and let us ready our hearts to take on what comes next for us, like towers and rocks of Jesus that we are.
May it be so. Amen.