This is Our Story
Christ is Risen. Christ is Risen indeed! Alleluia!!
On Resurrection Sunday we celebrate a story that some of us believe we know so well that we might overlook the details of how it is actually told in scripture.
We lean instead on the memory of years in church and the cultural narrative that keeps telling the story.
I mean…it’s Resurrection Sunday and Jesus doesn’t even make an appearance in the gospel lesson read today.
He doesn’t call anyone’s name.
He doesn’t fix breakfast for anyone.
He doesn’t invite anyone to touch his wounds.
All we get is an empty tomb.
We have announced Christ Risen today in our music and our liturgy – but in this particular telling from scripture – at least on first reading, we cannot be entirely sure how anyone would know that is true.
Since January, we have been studying Mark’s gospel here at Faith. We have marveled at how few words are used to tell the urgent and powerful story of Jesus. That story begins 16 chapters earlier with the very first verse – “in the beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God…”
There is no wind up. There is no teaser copy. No prologue. We know from the very first sentence that Mark’s gospel is about the GOOD NEWS of JESUS who is the SON OF GOD.
So surely we have all of the words we need from this tight narrative. Surely in this abrupt ending, there is something vital that we need.
If you open your pew bibles, you’ll see that there are several different endings tacked on beyond the one that you heard this morning. All of them are contested by biblical scholars. The original version of Mark’s gospel ends with the words we heard today - with the women running away in terror and amazement, silent, for they were afraid.
Isn’t it just human nature to be unsatisfied with an ending that feels incomplete? To have to go write a few alternative endings to settle the matter. To keep explaining how it REALLY happened.
Clearly somebody told someone something because 2000 years later we still tell the story. And we don’t just have “the story,” but it is a cultural underpinning for nearly 1/3 of the global population.
Because the story has been told – again and again.
Can I get a little geeky for a minute?
The writer of Mark’s gospel used a particular verb form in the original Greek – a form called the “historic present tense” – to place the listener or reader right in the midst of the action of the story. Paul Berge, emeritus professor of New Testament at Luther Seminary in St. Paul describes it this way:
The New Revised Standard Version text of Mark 16:2 reads: “And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb.” The literal reading of the Greek text would be to translate as a present tense event, “they come.”
Instead of “they saw” the stone rolled away, “they see….”
This is incredibly geeky stuff, but it matters to how we relate to Mark’s gospel. We are meant to be in the midst of the story!
With that as inspiration, I’d like to take a shot at “retelling” this story a bit, weaving in some details from across the gospels. And I want to invite you to be in the telling…find yourself among the characters and the actions.
When the Sabbath was over and the sun rose, the women – including Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome went to the market and then to Jesus’ tomb, buying and carrying spices and herbs needed to anoint his body. These women had cared for Jesus and his men when they traveled around Galilee, healing and teaching. They heard so much of what Jesus taught along the way. They had heard him tell of how he would suffer.
They had come to Jerusalem for the Passover and they saw the crowds shouting Hosanna…they joined them, in fact. Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed be the Son of David!
They watched for themselves and heard for themselves how the crowd turned as the week went on…they heard murmurs of revolution and shouts of crucify! It was a confusing turn of events.
Just about 36 hours earlier, the women stood near the cross, watching Jesus mocked and tortured, feeling helpless and also afraid for their own safety.
They went alone to the tomb that morning because the disciples were scattered on the night of the crucifixion. They really couldn’t be blamed - it was a dangerous time to be a Jesus-follower in Jerusalem – the Roman guards were still charged up, the Temple authorities were seething, and it seemed no one wanted to be associated with the Jesus movement for fear of also being made an example.
The women heard that Peter had done exactly as Jesus said he would do – denying that he knew Jesus to everyone who approached. Other followers fled so quickly that they left behind their robes, running naked into the night.
Fear works. Fear makes people quiet. Fear makes folks lay low. Fear causes people to hide.
The women wanted to honor Jesus with the right rituals for burial. They knew that there would be a heavy stone blocking the entrance. They would be challenged to move it, and wondered if they could find some help.
So they were surprised, first that the stone was rolled away and next by the young man in white that greeted them. His greeting, “do not be afraid,” was a welcome one…adrenaline from the trauma of the past few days was still coursing through their bodies.
But then he said the most amazing thing to them. He said that Jesus of Nazareth had been raised. They should return to Galilee where all of this began to meet him there. They should go and tell the disciples – even Peter.
Even Peter.
Even Peter was to hear this good news.
Even Peter.
But how could they do what the stranger in white tells them to do? They weren’t even sure where the disciples were hiding. To ask about their whereabouts would make people suspicious. It was a no-win situation – too dangerous in the moment.
What would you do?
What do you do?
Beloved, we know the story because we’ve heard it.
We’ve heard it told many ways at many times.
I also think we know this story somewhere in our flesh because it is our story.
We are part of this story.
There are times we are the women running away from the miracle, unable or unwilling to take the risk of believing what we have seen to share the story.
There are times we are Peter or the other disciples, absent because we’ve not felt safe proclaiming Jesus’ place in our lives.
There are times that we are the religious authorities trying to silence the prophetic voice that threatens to upset our traditions, our expectations, our comfort.
There are times when we have experienced death – the death of a relationship, the death of an expectation, the death of someone we love, the death of our identity in a career or a role, only to find that one day we are alive again. We find ourselves freed from the tomb.
We know this story.
We know it because we’ve heard it.
We know it because it is our story.
We are part of this story.
Christ is Risen. He is Risen indeed. Alleluia!
May we see the miracle of resurrection and know the risen Christ.
…in the quiet of a garden at dawn.
…in the breaking of bread.
…in the faces of those we serve.
…in our response to the world’s hard edges.
May it be so.
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