Easter Day - Revd. Jo Jones

Sermon Easter Day 2011 John 20:1-18

I wonder what Mary was expecting to see or feel when she went to the tomb? I think it’s there in the first verse: Mary goes out while it was still dark. There are all sorts of practical reasons for that of course – she has to get there before the heat of the day gets too intense, she wants to be alone with her thoughts at the tomb before anyone else might come, maybe she’s been unable to sleep anyway, and in the end decides she might as well get up and go out. But John wants us to notice the darkness – this is the darkness that still appears to hold sway. The darkness of knowing that Jesus was dead, a darkness that many of us may have experienced the day after a funeral. A heaviness when the reality of our loss begins to sink in. Mary and the disciples had placed such faith and trust in Jesus, they’d had such high expectations of him. They thought he was the longed-for Messiah, even though he’d not been the sort of Messiah that Israel had expected. Jesus’ ministry had ended in failure, his mission had been largely rejected, he’d been tortured and killed, the disciples were living in fear and it all seemed so meaningless – to have their hopes raised, their expectations so high – and then to witness the death of their beloved Lord… They’d buried his body and they thought he’d gone – this is the darkness that lingers on early in the first day of the week….

No wonder Mary is so distressed when she finds an empty tomb – it’s adding to her pain, intensifying the darkness – it’s the instinctive outrage we feel if a grave is desecrated in any way - who could want to take a dead body, where can Jesus be, why isn’t he there - so she goes to fetch Peter and John for support and they go inside and see only the grave-clothes – believing something has happened but unable to make sense of it, they go back home.

The light of understanding dawns first in Mary, as she stands and weeps and wonders why this new agony of loss has come upon her.  She doesn’t recognise Jesus at first, just as Peter and John haven’t recognised what has happened, and later the disciples on the road to Emmaus don’t realise that it’s Jesus who’s with them until he breaks bread. It’s hardly surprising - Mary’s just not expecting to see Jesus alive; she is not expecting the darkness to end. And Jesus is of course the same, but changed. His risen body is still very much his body, the scars are there, the look of Jesus is there – all he was before death, he still is, and yet he is so much more alive, transfigured, glorified. It is only when Mary hears Jesus’ voice that she dares to believe it really is him – hearing the sound of our loved-ones voices we often say – I’d know that voice anywhere – and it’s one of those things we miss most when they’re gone - what a poignant moment to hear her name spoken so gently, with such love…Mary… Mary does what is natural to many of us – to reach out and hold her beloved friend, to hold on and on, to let the physical presence convince her that seeing is believing … but Jesus typically has a job in mind for her – go and tell – Mary is often describes as the apostle to the apostles – she is the one sent to go and tell what has happened. A possible corruption of the text – do not hold on and do not be afraid being similar – either way, an absence has become a presence, Mary is given fresh strength and renewed hope.

And Mary’s tells in a few short, simple words something that it totally unexpected, unheard of, something that was as scary and bewildering for the disciples as it seems now to us – I have seen the Lord!

And Mary’s story is unique but it’s still part of our own story – we’re all here not because we’re especially holy people or even very good people, though we try to be both, of course, - we’re here because in some way or another, we’ve encountered the risen Lord and it’s has changed us – it’s brought us into communion, to being with him and with each other. Like Mary we are sent out to tell our story, our own version of the good news –I have seen the Lord. I am here because I have known deep desolation in my own life and have experienced resurrection; I am here because in some way, I have met the risen Lord.

We are Easter people, the first fruits of the new creation that Jesus’ resurrection brings into being, those called to continue God’s mission of love in the world through the power of the Spirit - without the resurrection Christianity makes no sense, without the resurrection, the way the church grew and flourished across the world out of such a small community of men and women becomes hard to understand – part of the Christian message does of course concern what sin and death has done to Jesus and to ourselves. But our faith is built on what Jesus has done to sin and death through his resurrection – biological death has become a passing over into fuller life with God, and spiritual death is transformed by a new quality of life here and now - for we are no longer separated from God but united with him through Christ’s Spirit which lives in us as we grow into his likeness.   

Sisters and brothers, let the wonder of the resurrection astound us again, let the unexpected reversal of death inspire us with a passion for life and love, let’s celebrate this miraculous tale of the unexpected … let us, with Mary and the other disciples, find ourselves laughing and singing and dancing for joy… for the one who was cut down has leapt up high and the dance of his risen life and love goes on and on and on.