Mark
16:1-8
Easter
2011
April
8, 2012
William G. Carter
When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the
mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint [the
body of Jesus]. And very early on
the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. They had been saying to one another,
‘Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?’When they
looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been
rolled back. As they entered the
tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side;
and they were alarmed. But he
said to them, ‘Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who
was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place
they laid him. But go, tell his
disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will
see him, just as he told you.’ So
they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them;
and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.
The
storyteller warned us this was coming. Just four weeks ago, Dennis Dewey was
here. He is a Presbyterian minister who tells the whole story of the Gospel of
Mark. Dennis knows the story by heart. With dramatic flair, he cast out the
demons, fed the multitudes, and confronted the hypocrites. He portrayed Jesus
as a strong man with a mission. And the most amazing thing is how the story
ends.
Jesus
dies alone on the cross. He is buried in a borrowed tomb. Three women decide
rather impulsively to pay their respects. His death had come abruptly, and with
the Passover holiday, there was no way to embalm the body. On the way, it
occurs to them: who is going to move the stone? When they arrive, it has
already been moved. And there is a stranger there, a man in white, seated and
making some wild claim that Jesus was alive. “He’s ahead of you,” said the man
in white, “gone ahead to Galilee, and you will see him there.”
Here’s
how Dennis told the next line. He said, "So the women went out and fled
from the tomb, for terror and astonishment had seized them; and they said
nothing to anyone, for they were afraid." With that, he ran out of the
room. He didn’t come back. The crowd sat in bewildered silence. Finally I stood
up over here and said, “Maybe that’s it.”
Now,
we are here on Easter Sunday, so you know there had to be more. Mark ends his
manuscript by saying, “The women said nothing,” but they must have eventually
said something, because here you are. There must have been more to the story,
more that was never written down. Easter according to the Gospel of Mark does
not conclude with all the loose ends tied down.
The
man in white says, “You shall see him in Galilee,” but we never hear if those
women ever saw him. He announced that Jesus went on ahead of them, but there is
no record of him slowing down and letting them catch up. On Easter, all they
have is an empty tomb and unfinished promise. The sheer shock of it provokes
them to run, to run away fast. Raw emotion closes down their vocal cords. They
run off somewhere, we don’t know where, terrified, speechless, amazed, and
afraid. Welcome to Easter Sunday, according to the Gospel of Mark.
Now,
the other Gospel writers were not happy with this ending. They continued the
story and took it a good bit further. Matthew says Jesus met the women as they
ran away and said, “How do you do?” Luke says they saw him, too, and hurried to
tell the men folk – they thought it an idle tale until Jesus appeared in their
hiding place and asked if they had anything to meet. John says Jesus kept
appearing, first to Mary, then to the disciples, then Doubting Thomas, and then
beside the sea. But Mark stops short of any of this. He concludes with the
women shaken and silent, with all of us wondering what happens next.
The
church that followed Mark was not happy with that ending. If you know about the
footnotes in the text, there are at least two or three other endings tacked on
to the Gospel of Mark. They sound like the other stories – and we can guess
what they are: pious attempts to finish off a story that is unfinished. Easter
is unfinished. Something happened inside the tomb of Jesus and it is still
going on. That’s what Mark wants us to know about Easter. It is the same
message that he has proclaimed from his opening words: God is on the loose.
This
is his central affirmation of faith. God did not stay safely sequestered in
heaven. On the very first day that Jesus appears, God rips open the sky and
spills down on top of him. And then God hurls Jesus into the wild places, the
very dominion where the evil spirits hide, and Jesus does battle with them from
day one.
God
refuses to stay hidden in a dusty temple. Jesus goes into a synagogue to teach
and heal, but then goes into a lady’s house to cure what ails here, and then
goes into the open country to purify an excluded leper that the temple would
not touch. Do you know what that means? It means God makes house calls. God-in-Christ
where people are bruised and wounded and have the greatest needs.
Jesus
is God’s secret agent. He comes to heal and instruct. He goes into the homes of
the holy people but he does not stay there. He eats at the tables of the
wealthy who are impressed with his power, but immediately he goes to share
bread and fish with those who have nothing. You can’t keep him nailed down. He
is God on the move, God on the loose. If
anybody knows the story, they know he’s not going to stay dead. He’s not going
to stay in a stone-cold grave. Jesus is not going to cash it in, play it safe,
or keep it cool.
Just
to score the point, at the moment where Jesus is breathing his last breath on
the cross, the Gospel of Mark takes us to the deep center of the Jerusalem temple.
There is a curtain there that keeps God from the world. Nobody could go inside
that place unless they were chosen by lottery. Even then, they never got to see
God. The curtain kept God from view. And when Jesus dies, the curtain is ripped
apart from the other side. It’s torn in the same way that the sky was torn open
at his baptism. God’s not going to stay out of our world, not going to stay confined
in some holy place. The old days are over. Now God is on the loose.
Do
you know what this means? It means if you like having your life under control, if
you like having all your pencils sharpened at the same height, if you like
living under the illusion that life is tidy and your children are well behaved,
if you like knowing when everything is going is happen. If you like having
everything turn out your way, you could very run in a collision course with
your Creator. The Galilee ministry of Jesus was never tidy. He shouted down
evil spirits, confronted calcified religious people, and reached out to cure
the lepers by touching them. There was nothing polite about it. No, no, no – he
knew that lives were at risk, and Jesus had every intention to intervene.
This
is what happens when you have a Saving God – your God starts saving. And if you
are in the way, if your schedule doesn’t have God written in the right
appointment slot, well, God is going smash down the wall and get to where the
people are in trouble, where the lives need to be saved.
Over
and over again, Mark tells how Jesus healed people even if the religious
calendar said it’s the Sabbath and healing looks like work. With callous
disregard for the rules, especially if there was a person in pain who needed to
be healed, Jesus simply did what Saving God has to do. He saved the people, one
withered limb at a time, one headache at a time, one untimely illness after
another.
And
if Jesus the Savior has so much on his plate that he can’t get to you in time, don’t
ever despair! He will come and raise you from the dead. “Talitha cumi,” he said
to a stricken little girl that everybody thought he had lost. He raised her up,
and said, “Get her something to eat.”
This
is what Easter is all about. It’s about the ministry of Jesus Christ
continuing, about the Word bringing people alive and increasing their
well-being. The Crucifixion could not shut him down. Now he is back, stronger
than ever, always ahead of us, and calling us to follow. This is a broken,
twisted world and there’s plenty of work to do. The Gospel of Mark won’t let
any of us sit too long on padded pews and sing self-important songs. There is a
world to save, a neighborhood to redeem, and a whole slew of souls to take in
for repairs.
So
it’s no wonder the women are troubled. No wonder they are too shocked to speak.
The tomb of Jesus is busted open from the inside. He is alive again and already
at work. That’s a lot to comprehend. That’s almost too much to take in. They
were afraid. They were amazed. They had no idea that the God who does so much
in secret had that much power, that much authority, that much joy. They ran
away afraid, too stunned to say anything to anybody.
But
when they find their voices, I am going to listen. And I’m going to follow
wherever they are headed. How about you?
(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.
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