Mark 16:1-8
There’s something I like about this recounting of the resurrection from Mark. It’s the sparsest of all the gospels. Just the basics. Just the facts, ma’am. It leaves the most to the imagination.
And this is the end, according to some manuscripts, of Mark’s gospel entirely. Ending on fear. Not what we expect from the good news we read. We’re supposed to go off on a good note. But not with Mark….he leaves us gripped in the fear & awe of the women at the tomb.
The hard thing about preaching on Easter morning is talking about resurrection in a world where death is very real. Death which occurs all across our globe, all too often. Death that is for the most part avoidable. Children who disappear in the Sudan and Uganda. Starvation which kills in Somalia and other drought-stricken areas of Africa. The violence of war in Iraq and Afghanistan and throughout the world. Not to mention the death of hundreds of homeless people on the streets of our own country—a so-called developed nation.
What does resurrection mean in these situations? How does one preach eternal life when earthly life can seem so short and difficult? Does this short story of some women at an empty tomb give us hope or just cause more despair? Mark doesn’t give us the comfort of an appearance by Jesus. Just an empty tomb, from which we’re supposed to figure out, I suppose, what’s gone on.
But maybe that’s why I’m so attracted to Mark’s ending…it’s speaks of fear and amazement in the face of resurrection, which are emotions I can identify with. There’s plenty of fear and amazement to go around these days that we can all identify with.
But is this the stuff of Easter? Aren’t we supposed to be focused on the beauty of spring, the joy of bunnies, the fun of colored eggs? This isn’t a time to be intent on social justice issues. Not today—not now. Let’s keep Easter light.
Christ is risen. This is what is the focus. It’s how we began our service. “Jeez,” I can hear you saying, “if you were going to be so glum, Gerry, you should have done it during Lent, when it’s appropriate. Not now.”
But now is when we should be focusing on the problems of the world. Easter gives us the hope we need to carry on in a sometimes desolate and saddened world. Without resurrection we are devoid and despairing.
Resurrection, especially as Mark presents it, is God’s comment on death; on Jesus’ crucifixion. Death is not the final answer; the forces of this earth do not win after all.
We live, sadly, in a world, that hasn’t changed much from the violence of the 1st century when Jesus did walk this earth. The only thing that has changed, it seems is that the methods of violence have changed and transmorphed technologically. Instead of crosses, we have electric chairs and injectable, death-producing drugs. Instead of swords, we get tanks and bazookas. The violence has remained the same.
But what has changed from those early days is that we believe that God came in and intervened in death. Resurrection is the answer to the gloomy nature of this sermon.
Resurrection, that empty tomb that first frightened the women, gives us all hope for whatever is going on in the world. It, resurrection, is the balm that we apply to the wounds of this earth. It doesn’t solve anything or make us turn away from the hard facts of our world, but it is a new lens through which to view them.
Resurrection impels us to act to ensure that death isn’t the final answer in the Sudan, Somalia, Iraq, and all around our globe. If we truly believe in resurrection, we are driven toward acting on our beliefs to make death less a threat to thousands and millions of people who face it on a daily basis.
We turn with fear and amazement from the empty tomb, with the two Marys and Salome. Fearful because we have never seen such a thing before and can’t believe it’s happened. Amazed because it changes everything about our world. Fearful and amazed because we know this means nothing is the same—and we cannot act as we always have. We must take action now. We must act against death and despair.
Resurrection indeed gives us hope: a hope that will carry us through any situation. A hope that is not shallow but digs deeply into our faith. A hope that faces death and knows that it is not the final answer. Yet a hope that acts and does what is needed to prevent death. Be that writing to congressional representatives and senators and presidents to do all that can be done. Or be it giving money to causes that are working to prevent the death and despair.
Be fearful and amazed but don’t be stuck there. Live in hope instead. A hope that changes the world and carries resurrection forth.
1 comment:
Gerry... Good sermon. I liked it - it seemed like you enjoyed preaching it. Just reading it, you did not seem too "glum" to me -- but I did not have the advantage of seeing your body language. Did your shoulders slump? Did you smile? Did you frown? Was your voice low, or did you throw your arms in the air when you said, "Easter gives us the hope we need to carry on." I can picture that. Yes, good sermon.
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