A Tale of Two Resurrections

Easter Day

John 20.1-20

St. Gregory’s, Long Beach

Live Streamed on Parish Facebook page

 

Alleluia! Christ is Risen!

The Lord is Risen indeed! Alleluia!

 

We have just heard John’s account of what happened on Easter morning. While there are differences in specific details, each of the Gospels tell basically the same story. How on Easter morning, women go to Jesus’ tomb and find it empty. Each account unfolding to reveal something about the resurrection and about the Risen Lord. John’s account, while also accomplishing this, goes one step further. This account takes a deeper dive into the responses the disciples have upon finding the tomb empty and the resulting effect of the resurrection on those closest to Jesus. Thereby providing a means by which we might view our own responses to the resurrection and its effect on us and our lives of faith.

 

While the Gospel account we just heard is most definitely a unified whole, in some ways, it is actually two stories. Each with its own response to the resurrection. Responses and reactions which are very different from each other, and yet are held in tension with one another; one flowing from the other. The juxtaposition of the two informing how we ourselves might view and relate to such a mysterious and unexplainable event. Explaining how such a mysterious and unexplainable event as the resurrection is, nonetheless, the centerpiece of our religion, of our collective and individual lives of faith.

 

John’s account of the first Easter morning is a tale of two resurrections, as it were. Or rather, the tale of two approaches to experiencing the one resurrection. One being more objective, one being more subjective. One being more matter-of-fact and one being more relational. One unfolding more like a mystery story and one unfolding more like a love story. The mystery story giving way to, turning into, the love story.

 

On the morning following the Sabbath and the celebration of Passover, Mary Magdalene goes to the tomb of her beloved friend and teacher who had been executed two days before. Those two days must have been agonizing for her, not able to go and pay her respects because of Sabbath restrictions. Finally, she can visit his tomb, even if only to stand on the outside and say prayers for her dear friend, to remember what a profound impact he had on her life and on the lives of so many. When she arrives, she discovers the tomb is opened and Jesus’ body missing.  What unfolds is the tale of seeking to solve the mysterious disappearance. Mary first goes to Peter and John (the disciple whom Jesus loved) to report the mystery.

 

An investigation ensues, with Peter and John going to the tomb and inspecting the situation, looking for evidence—for any clue that would help them determine what has happened. They inspect the tomb. Empty. Although not completely. The body may be gone, but, mysteriously, the linens Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus had wrapped the body in remain. Who would go to all the trouble of unwrapping a dead body if they were going to take it? And even more strange, the linen used to wrap Jesus’ head was carefully rolled up and in a separate place from the other linen. At this point, they are out of evidence and the trail goes cold. “For as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead.” And, apparently, in their grief, they had completely forgotten—or blocked out—that Jesus had told them multiple times what would happen. Had they been thinking clearly, viewing the evidence in light of what Jesus had told them before his death, it all would have made sense. The evidence does indeed point to only one conclusion. Resurrection, not body-snatching. But, they are not in a position to go there just yet. With nothing more to be done, with no more clues to follow, Peter and John return home. Chalking it up to an unsolved and unsolvable mystery. At least, for the time being.

 

Which, from a purely objective standpoint, is accurate. Even if they had not yet realized that Jesus had been resurrected as he foretold, or even if they had, what happened was, strictly speaking, a complete mystery. Even when they do come to realize what happened, the objective facts of the matter are that we cannot explain what happened. We have no frame of reference to understand just what resurrection truly entails. All we can look to are the observable facts, as did Peter and John. Jesus was crucified on Good Friday. He was buried in a tomb. And on Easter morning, his body is gone. Given the scant evidence, he must have been resurrected. What more do we need? We don’t need to know how resurrection works for us to accept that Jesus was resurrected, do we? So, end of story. Or is it?

 

If that were all we had to go on, that would effectively be the end of the story. And a rather unsatisfying one at that. And hardly a basis on which to build a religious movement. Certainly not one that would eventually become the largest religion in the world. Which is where the second tale of resurrection comes in.

 

While Peter and John may have been satisfied that there was no more to be found at the tomb, while they may have been willing to accept the mystery of the missing Jesus, maybe even entertaining thoughts that he must have been resurrected, Mary obviously is not satisfied. Her love for Jesus will not allow her to be. Not that Peter and John did not love him. They did. But, then again, men . . .

 

Mary stays, weeping in grief that Jesus is gone. That he is dead and that his body is now missing. No opportunity for closure. Until she goes into the tomb, perhaps hoping to at least be closer to Jesus by being where his body had been. After a mysterious encounter with angels, Mary turns to leave, only to find a man standing before her, presumably the gardener. Perhaps he knows something. Perhaps all is not lost, after all.

 

All is not lost. At this moment, this presumed stranger calls her by name: “Mary!” How could he know who she was? And yet, there is something in his voice. A tone? A quality? Something so familiar that it touches her heart, touches her very soul, allowing her to see with new eyes. To see through the eyes of faith. To see through the eyes of love. It’s him! “Rabbouni!” In her excitement, in her joy, she undoubtedly throws herself at him, wrapping her arms around him and holding on for dear life. Holding on as if her life depends on it—which, in a spiritual and salvational sense, it does. While she may not have known or understood in the moment, he was the means to new life. Through his death and resurrection, having defeated the bonds of sin, providing forgiveness to her and to all. Through his death and resurrection, having defeated the bonds of death, providing a new and eternal life to her and to all.

 

But this does not matter right now. All that matters is that she has her beloved Jesus back. Although, things are not to be as she would wish. “Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father.” Things cannot go back to the way they were before Good Friday. He has to complete his mission, to be ascended into heaven. And she has a mission, as well. She is the first to see, to experience, the Risen Lord. She is the first to experience first-hand that he has indeed been raised, as he had told his disciples. The Risen Lord commissions her: “Go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’” She is to be the one to go and inform the other disciples what has truly happened. The disciples whom Jesus had charged with carrying on his mission and ministry. His messengers. His apostles. She is to be apostle to the apostles. Her message being so simple, and yet, so profound. So earth-shattering; so life changing—for them and for so many. “I have seen the Lord.”

 

By sticking around in the garden—unlike Peter and John, who took things at face value—by sticking around and seeking to discern what had truly happened, Mary is able to experience more fully what resurrection is about. It is not just about an empty tomb. It is not just about Jesus’ body gone missing. It’s about seeking to have an encounter with the Risen Christ, unexpected though it may be. It is about hearing the Risen Christ call his beloveds by name. It is about hearing his words, touching our hearts and our souls. It is about seeing with new eyes and recognizing who he his. Who he truly is. And in that recognition experiencing the fullness of his love for us. The fullness of love that is demonstrated by what resurrection truly means: forgiveness and new life.

 

Mary Magdalene embodies the full arc of the events of recent days—from Good Friday to Easter morning. She moves from a place of sorrow at the death of her beloved friend and teacher to a place of joy at experiencing the mystery and wonder of his resurrection. The death of Jesus giving way to new life. New life for him in resurrected form. An accomplishment which served to defeat the bonds that death has on humanity—making way for new life for all humanity. New life that, while deriving from Christ’s death, is born out love—his love for us, God’s love for us. Christ’s death and resurrection being the ultimate expression of that love.

 

Mary is the first to receive this gift of love, to experience this gift of love. She does so on our behalf. She is our example of how we are to approach the mystery of the resurrection. Not accepting it at face value, but to be open to going deeper into its meaning, its purpose. To be open to unexpected encounters with the Resurrected One. May we, like Mary, be open to hearing the Risen Lord call us by name. Touching our heart and our soul in new ways, so that we are able to see with new eyes. So that we are able to experience the love he has for us, epitomized through his death and resurrection. May we, like Mary, hear and accept his invitation to new life in him, that we too may go out proclaiming, “I have seen the Lord.”

 

Alleluia! Christ is Risen!

The Lord is Risen indeed! Alleluia!