How sad when we don’t get
something right. How foolish we look to others when we don’t understand
what everyone else understands. When everyone else around you gets it, but
you still don’t understand, it makes you look foolish. It might happen as
you enter a room. The other people are talking, and you want to become
involved. As you listen, you pick up on the conversation. So you start
giving your own opinions about the subject. The others look at you like you
just dropped in from Mars. They’re not talking about what you think they
are at all. Not even remotely close. You feel your face flush. You make a
quick exit to try to recover your dignity. It feels awful not to get it
right.
Well, Mary Magdalene had the same problem.
It was the Sunday after Jesus’ crucifixion. She had come to visit his
tomb. His tomb was empty. The first reaction you might expect on the part
of Mary would be one of unbridled joy. After all, might not Mary have been
in the presence of Jesus when he spoke of himself as the good shepherd?
“The good shepherd,” he had said, “lays down his life for the sheep.” And
he said, “. . . I lay down my life for the sheep.” Wouldn’t Mary have heard
Jesus say, “For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life
in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of
my own accord. I have the power to lay it down, and I have the power to
take it up again.” What’s more, wouldn’t Mary have known about his
conversation with Martha, the sister of Lazarus? Before Jesus raised him
from the dead, he said to Martha, “I am the resurrection and the life.” And
didn’t Jesus tell his disciples, “I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming
to you”? As he was about to leave his disciples by way of the cross, he
told them, “In a little while the world will no longer see me, but you will
see me; because I live, you also will live. On that day you will know that
I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you.” Didn’t any of these words
register in Mary’s mind outside Jesus’ empty tomb? No. Instead, Mary was
brought to tears. She was confused. When she looked at Jesus’ empty tomb,
she misunderstood what had happened there. She thought that someone had
removed Jesus’ body. How sad when you don’t get it right.
You think resurrection would have been the
first thing you would have thought of in Mary’s place? Imagine that you
were the one in charge of the burial of one of your relatives. You were the
one who made the arrangements. You picked out the grave. You ordered the
headstone. You took care of it all. When the funeral was over, you saw
that the casket was lowered in the gravesite that you had arranged for. You
knew where to return to see this relative’s final resting place. One day,
imagine, you do return to the grave of this relative. When you do, you find
the grave open and the casket removed. You see nothing in the opened grave
but black soil. Your first reaction? Ah, you see, it is much like Mary’s.
You don’t first think of a resurrection. You think there is some ordinary
explanation for what has happened here. You think someone has come and
taken your relative’s body away. I’ll bet that would make you both confused
and sad. That is exactly the picture we have of Mary Magdalene on that
first Easter morning, confused and sad.
Of course, we who read the gospel get a
couple of clues as to what happened. We have the distance to remember those
things Jesus said in the earlier pages of this gospel. So the clues might
help us understand what Mary could not. Inside Jesus’ empty tomb were his
linen wrappings. Had Jesus’ body been stolen, those grave cloths would have
gone along with the body. There was no body, but there the grave cloths
remained. The theological explanation: No one had taken Jesus’ body. God
has raised him up from the dead. “I believe,” Wil Pounds wrote, “I believe
Jesus passed miraculously through death into an altogether new sphere of
existence.” John R. W. Stott said, “[Jesus’ body] would have passed through
grave clothes, as it was later to pass through closed doors, leaving them
untouched and almost undisturbed.” We can see that, for our eyes are not
clouded with the tears of confusion at the sight of the empty tomb. We know
that they point to the reality that the one who laid down his life for the
sheep has taken it up again.
Still, what would it take to be sure that
Jesus had risen from the dead? How about him standing right there before
you? Anthony Bloom could tell you that’s what it took for him. He came to
faith by having an experience of the presence of the risen Lord. His
personal account is amazing. It was while he was a youngster. He was
reading the Gospel of Mark in order to try to disprove it. “While I was
reading St. Mark’s gospel,” he said, “before I reached the third chapter, I
became aware of a presence. I saw nothing. I heard nothing. It was no
hallucination. It was a simple certainty that the Lord was standing
there.” He said, “This was my basic and essential meeting with the Lord.
From then I knew that Christ did exist. I knew that he was thou, in
other words that he was the Risen Christ.” Anthony Bloom was given the
grace to recognize the risen Lord Jesus without seeing him with the eye.
Mary Magdalene saw the risen Jesus with her own eyes! There he was,
standing right before her. Would that be enough for you? Imagine you had
that powerful experience Anthony Bloom had, but imagine you did see
something. Rather, you saw someone. What if you saw the risen Jesus
with your own eyes? Would that be enough for you to be sure that Jesus had
risen from the dead?
Too bad for Mary. Here was another
misunderstanding. She thought the risen Lord was the gardener. Too bad for
her. It was a case of mistaken identity. There was a misunderstanding on
her part. She laid eyes on the risen Lord Jesus, but she didn’t recognize
him. He stood there, but she was ignorant of who he was. There’s no reason
for us to be hard on her. The same kind of thing happens to us. From time
to time, I will see people I know from church in a different location. When
these folks came into the church, I routinely remembered them. But, when I
ran into the same people in a restaurant, I looked right at them, and my
mind began searching through its files to try to identify these folks in
this different setting. Does that ever happen to you? I remember years
ago, when I was being trained as a hospital chaplain, I saw someone in my
computer charting class who I knew I knew, but I couldn’t figure out where.
She looked so familiar. During the break, I approached her. She also
thought I was familiar, but she couldn’t place me either. We asked each
other if we had been in this place or that. Finally, I asked her if she had
ever been to Summer Place Camp in Port Aransas, Texas. She had! Suddenly,
we both recognized each other. I was her camp director; and she was a
camper now all grown up. If we had seen each other at Summer Place, we
would have recognized each other immediately. But we were both out of
place. Mary wasn’t looking for Jesus in a cemetery. Not alive, anyway.
Jesus was standing before her. She was looking right at him. But she
didn’t recognize him. It was a misunderstanding.
Of course, not everyone has the same
experience. You may not have had the same experience as Mary or the same
experience as Anthony Bloom. But there is one way that Mary and the apostle
Paul each knew that they had been in the presence of the risen Lord Jesus.
He called each one by name. Did you hear that in our gospel reading? Jesus
called Mary by name. That’s what it took for Mary to recognize him. The
risen Jesus called her by name. What was it this same gospel said about
Jesus, the good shepherd? The good shepherd knows his own and his own know
him. He calls his own sheep by name and they respond to his voice. Jesus
said, “Mary.” That was all she needed. It was then that she recognized who
he was. The good shepherd knows his sheep by name, and the sheep know his
voice. The apostle Paul heard Jesus call him by name. He was known as
Saul, a persecutor of the Jesus movement. He was on his way to arrest some
Christians, when a light from heaven flashed around him. He fell to the
ground and heard a voice calling, “Saul, Saul.” It called him by name.
“Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” Paul needed more assurance, so he
asked, “Who are you, Lord?” The risen Lord answered him, “I am Jesus, whom
you are persecuting.” Paul left his persecution of the church and became a
part of it. He began immediately to follow Jesus and serve him. Why? He
was sure he had met the risen Lord. Why? The risen Lord called him by
name.
Well, when the risen Lord calls someone by
name, that person can expect a big change in his or her life. When the Lord
calls you, it means you are going to be given a task to do. I can’t think
of any account of the risen Lord appearing to someone for the exclusive
purpose of that person receiving a religious high for his or her personal
enjoyment. No. When the risen Lord appears to someone, it is for the
purpose of changing that person’s life and vocation. For Paul, it was to
follow instructions and begin to spread the good news. When Mary saw the
risen Lord this was also the moment when she received her commission from
Jesus. She would be the first one to proclaim the good news of Easter to
the other disciples. The risen Lord told Mary, “Do not hold on to me,
because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and
say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and
your God.’” In the Gospel of John, the glorification of Jesus was one
continuous event made up of three parts: his being lifted up on the cross,
his resurrection, and his ascension. Mary’s task was to announce the
completion of Jesus’ glorification, his resurrection and his ascension to
the Father. When Anthony Bloom had his experience, that was the beginning
of his life as first a disciple of Christ and then as a church leader. When
the risen Lord comes to a person, you can expect a big change in that
person’s life and vocation.
Only one thing to do with such a
commission: You do as you were commanded. No time to stand around this
scene of first grief and then amazing joy when there is triumphant good news
to tell. What’s more, you can’t hold on to the old relationship with Jesus,
the former earthly relationship now that Jesus has been risen from the
dead. The “local” Jesus, the one who walked in a certain location, will
now, in the Spirit, be the “global” risen Lord, who is everywhere at the
same time. You can’t hold on to that old way of relating at Jesus. So
neither grief nor a prolonged celebration of joy is appropriate when
commanded by the risen Lord to tell of his resurrection. This is not a
private matter of how one feels about Jesus being raised from the dead.
When Mary saw and heard from the risen Lord Jesus, it changed her life.
That was the moment the risen Lord commissioned her to tell what she had
seen and heard. That moment of commissioning was the beginning of a new
life for her, for her fellow disciples, and for the whole world. God raised
up Jesus from the dead. God has the power to raise us from death to life.
God has the power to transform us self-absorbed creatures into new beings
who live new life. This has to be told. The moment when this new life
begins is when one accepts the meaning of God raising Jesus from the dead.
It was to prove that Jesus’ life and death were God’s movement toward
humanity in reconciling love. So when the risen Lord appears to someone
with a commission to be a witness to these things, the only fitting thing to
do is obey. After experiencing the presence of the risen Lord, Anthony
Bloom became his lifelong servant. After experiencing the risen Lord call
him by name, the apostle Paul began to spread the good news. And when Mary
heard Jesus call her by name and commission her to speech and action, she
became first to tell the good news. She went to the other disciples and
said to them, “I have seen the Lord.” Good news like that had to be told.
So, what shall we do? Our gospel has
proclaimed to us that the risen Lord Jesus appeared to Mary and called her
by name. The book of Acts recounts the story of how the risen Lord called
the apostle Paul by name. Who are the risen Lord’s apostles today? That’s
you. And it’s me. As this same risen Lord lives in our lives this morning,
and as we hear him through scripture in the power of the Spirit calling us
by name, so now we are the ones commissioned to tell the good news. What
shall we do! Let’s fling open the doors of the church and shout out the
good news to the world: The Lord has risen! The Lord has risen indeed!