A Good Enough Faith to Tell

Acts 10: 34 – 43 * John 20: 1 – 18

Christ is risen, he is risen indeed.

Christ is risen, he is risen indeed.

Christ is risen, he is risen indeed!
Alleluia!

 

(See? We can get our praise and worship on out loud when we set our minds to it…)

 

EASTER is a dramatic story that begins in the dark…early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark…

 

And this telling from John’s gospel has some quirky details.  

 

It begins in sort of a familiar way - Mary Magdalene has gone to the tomb (in this account by herself). She arrives to find the stone that covered the entrance rolled away. 

 

In her shock, she RUNS to tell Simon Peter and an unnamed disciple – the one whom Jesus loved (more about that detail another time perhaps) that Jesus has been taken from the tomb.

 

Then the two disciples RUN to the tomb, starting out together.

 

But the “other” disciple outruns Simon Peter, arriving first. He bends over to look in – but does not enter.  He sees the wrappings from the body lying there.

 

Next, Simon Peter arrives. He doesn’t linger at the door -  he goes right on in. Inside he finds cloths that had wrapped the body - AND he ALSO sees the cloth that had been wrapped around Jesus’ head. And it is not in the same place as the other wrappings.

The other disciple, “who arrived first,” follows Simon Peter into the tomb and sees the same thing – wrappings of cloth laid aside:

 

“He saw and believed; for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead. Then the disciples returned to their homes.”

 

How odd. All of those details about running and who beat whom to the tomb. And then there is almost a comical quality to Simon Peter entering the tomb while the first disciple doesn’t at first. And after Simon Peter and the disciple whom Jesus loved see the empty tomb, what exactly did they believe? What was the story that they returned home with? 

 

The wrapping cloths are an important clue here – the Greek word used to describe the cloths left behind in the tomb is the same used to describe the cloths that Jesus’ beloved friend Lazarus is still wearing as he emerges from his tomb. Jesus tells witnesses that surround Lazarus to “unbind him, and let him go.”

 

The fact that the cloths remain is evidence to the disciples that Jesus is already unbound and let go. There is an echo here for the disciples from their past experiences with Jesus – no one needs to unbind Jesus. It has happened already. 

 

But Mary’s experience is different. Left behind at the empty tomb by the two disciples, she stands weeping outside. She leans in (can you feel her hesitation?) …and instead of wrappings, she encounters angels who ask her why she weeps. Her response reveals that she still believes the body has been taken away.

 

Then, as Mary turns away from the tomb, Jesus asks her why she weeps.

In that moment, she can’t see or understand the particularity of who is speaking to her - her great concern is the missing body she’s come to prepare.

 

Then Jesus speaks her name.

Mary….

 

Can you take just a moment…is there a voice in your life that deeply embedded in your soul – one that when it speaks your name you would surely recognize the person immediately.

 

And at the sound of his voice, Mary knows.

Rabbouni! She exclaims.  Teacher. It is you.

 

Here is the resurrection in this story. Here is Jesus, recognizable to Mary in this moment.

 

Don’t cling to me, Jesus tells her. 

And she doesn’t. She leaves to tell the others, I have seen the Lord.

I have seen the Lord.

This is her testimony. 

It is her truth. 

It is her experience.

Her experience in this moment is different from the other disciples who went to the tomb with her that morning. Their experiences will unfold in different ways in verses to come.

 

Isn’t that the way it is?

 

No two people have the exact same experience of any event. 

No two people have the exact same experience of Jesus.

 

What shapes our unique experiences?

 

What has shaped the disciples’ experience up to this moment?

 

The disciples arrive at the tomb where Jesus’ body was supposed to be early on Sunday morning, the first day of the week. 

 

But just days ago, on Thursday night, they were sitting together sharing a feast, enjoying one another’s company, imagining how their ministry was going to continue to touch lives and grow…and maybe they were even imagining how Jesus might be King soon…bringing about that Kingdom he talked about so much.

 

But we know how quickly things unraveled from there. They have witnessed the brutality of Jesus’ crucifixion, the public humiliation reserved for criminals. They have feared for their own lives.  We know that Mary was at the cross when Jesus’ body was taken down. They have waited these last two nights with their own anxiety and grief, great concern for their safety, that they might be next. They have witnessed the murder of Jesus right before their eyes. 

 

They have encountered real trauma – trauma is our emotional response to a terrible event. Most of us have experience trauma of some sort – particularly in light of the last two years of COVID.

 

Trauma impacts what we can and cannot see, hear, taste, understand, believe. 

 

So too, the disciples are individuals. Each has had different experiences throughout their lives – from the practice of their Jewish faith to their vocation to their family structures. 

 

And each had their own unique relationships with Jesus in his ministry. Each saw the events of the prior years with Jesus unfold from their own unique vantage point. 

 

Of course their experiences of resurrection differ from one another, of course they are unique.

 

That is true for us too.

Each of our experiences of resurrection is different, unique.

 

Some of us might have experiences that resemble the awareness that the body is not where we expected it to be and while that means its gone, we don’t have much more than that yet.

 

And some of us have experiences of Jesus calling our name in an unmistakable way.

 

Over time, our experiences will ripen, will change, will be colored by experiences – experiences like trauma, transformation, encounter, relationship.

 

As we move from a season of “good enough,” in which we have been working on embracing our good enough lives and our good enough selves, we are entering into a season of witness – where we acknowledge, embrace and seek to share our experience of the risen Christ - hopefully from our newly understood good enough-ness…

 

Because it turns out that our unique “good enough-ness” is part of what shapes our witness.

 

A witness is one who has seen, but more expansively, in the Christian life, to be a witness is to take responsibility for proclaiming what it is that we have seen, experienced, been given….

 

I wonder…

What is your experience of the risen Christ?

What does it take for you to see Christ? 

To hear Christ?

To understand? 

To believe what you are experiencing?

 

Mary says, I have “seen” the Lord – but she didn’t know that until she heard him call her name. The other disciples still have to wait for resurrection to be revealed as our text ends today.

 

How is it that we move forward from Easter morning, acknowledging our different vantage points, our different experiences of resurrection?

 

How is it that we understand our unique story is good enough to tell?

 

How is it that what you know of Jesus and the empty tomb is NOT just a once a year event, but a story within you that keeps unfolding…

….that can be told to anyone who needs it

…that is told by the choices you make in your life, that shapes your vocation, your use of money, your relationships?

 

Here’s the good news –your unique experience, matters to your witness. All of your good enough-ness shapes your experience of Jesus. 

 

Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples “I have seen the Lord.”

 

My prayer is that we all have a witness that begins, “I have seen the Lord.” 

Sometimes it is spoken aloud. 

Sometimes it is whispered. 

Sometimes in is in our own head, as if we are reminding ourselves.

Sometimes it is lifted in song.

Sometimes it is shared in the actions of our hands and feet.

Sometimes it is told with trembling voices and hands.

“I have seen the Lord.”

May it be so.

Amen.