When my mother died in 1993, I was unprepared for the intense grief that hit me like a freight train. My father had died ten years before, but that was different. He didn’t like me, and there was no love lost between us, so the whole process was not that traumatic. When my mother died, though, I felt like the whole world as I knew it had come to an end.
For a whole year after Mama died, I couldn’t draw breath without my chest hurting. I cried a lot. I missed her. I found myself picking up the phone to call her. I couldn’t even bring myself to wash an afghan she had made just because it smelled like her.
I still cry when I hear His Eye is on the Sparrow. It was one of her favorite hymns, and someone sang it at her memorial service which, by the way, I couldn’t even sit through. I had to leave right after the singing was done.
It took a good two years for me to start feeling normal again, and by the time the third anniversary of her death rolled around, I was pretty much back to my old self. But during those three years, I found myself thinking on innumerable occasions, If I could just see her one more time. If I could just talk to her. If I could only hear her voice once more.
I think part of what hits us so hard when a loved one dies is the realization that we’re never going to see them again and we’re never going to hear their voice again, at least not on this earth. It’s such an abrupt transition, it’s a shock to our whole system.
Well, we’ve all lost loved ones. We’ve lost parents, brothers, sisters, husbands, wives, even children. And we all know how much it hurts and how it affects us on such a deep level. What I want you to do, and I know this will be painful for some of you, is to think back to a time in your life when someone you loved very much has died.
I want you to remember how you felt. The pain, the confusion, the shock, the emptiness, the feeling that you’d been kicked in the chest, the loneliness you felt when you realized you’d never talk to that person again. All of the pain and anguish you felt. I want you to remember it all.
Now I want you to try to imagine how you’d feel if that person appeared right in front of you and spoke your name. They’re there, in the flesh, looking you right in the face. Not a ghost, not an apparition, but real, alive, flesh and blood, healthy. Back from the dead.
How do you think you’d feel? The pain is gone, the despair is gone, the weight lifts from your chest. And then they speak your name, a sound you thought you’d never hear again. Can you feel the relief? The gratitude? The excitement?
What’s the first thing you’d do? Run? Hide? Try to get away? I doubt it. If you’re human, and most of us are, I think the first thing you’d do is speak their name and then reach out to hug them. The need to hold them close and feel them alive would be overwhelming. You’d grab them and squeeze them, and never want to turn them loose.
That’s what happened on the first Easter morning. Jesus was dead. He’d been crucified, he had died, and he’d been put into a tomb a couple of days before. His family, friends, and disciples were overwhelmed with grief. They were feeling the very same pain I talked about a minute ago. Their hearts were broken; they were in a state of disbelief; they felt like they’d been kicked in the chest.
And on top of that, some of them were afraid. The disciples, or should I say the male disciples, were in hiding, afraid that if they came out they’d be crucified, too. So they cowered in their homes, not knowing what to do.
The women disciples, on the other hand, made straight for the tomb on Sunday morning. They were going to do for Jesus what they hadn’t had time to do on Friday. They were going to prepare his body properly.
It was the custom at that time to wash the body and anoint it with spices and oils, and wrap it in clean cloths. Since Jesus’ burial on Friday had been such a hurried affair due to the start of the Sabbath, they weren’t able to do all that, so they started out on Sunday morning, as soon as it was light enough to see.
On the way tot he tomb, I imagine they talked about this and that. They probably talked about how they were going to get the stone in front of the tomb rolled back so they could get in. Maybe they wondered how many Roman guards they’d have to put up with. They may have reminisced a little about Jesus, weeping, talking about all he had done for them and how much they loved him.
The gospel accounts don’t agree on how many women actually went to the tomb, or even who the women were, except on one point. They all agree that Mary Magdalene was there. She’s the one that Jesus had cast seven demons out of. She had lived a tortured existence for years, and only Jesus had been able to set her free from the evil that had plagued her all her life. She more than anyone else owed Jesus a huge debt of gratitude, and now she was going to the tomb to repay a small part of that debt, and to show her respect for Jesus by properly preparing his body.
Whoever all the women were, I’m sure they all felt much the same way. They were grief-stricken, confused, shocked, they wondered what was going to happen now that Jesus was gone. They most likely yearned to hear his voice again and to see his face. They felt the loneliness, the despair, the pain we all feel when a loved one dies.
Add to all this the distress they must have felt when they got to the tomb and found it open! The stone was rolled away and worse than that, Jesus’ body was gong! This was just too much. It wasn’t bad enough that Jesus was dead and they were never going to see or hear him again, but now somebody had taken his body away.
Did you ever stop to wonder why that stone was rolled away? I guess it’s natural just to accept it as part of the story. God rolled it away, or an angel rolled it away. But why? Certainly not so Jesus could get out. Jesus didn’t need to walk out through an open doorway. When Jesus was raised by God from the dead, I seriously doubt if he just kind of woke up out of a nice sleep and decided to leave the tomb.
And it tells us in the Bible that there was an earthquake and the stone rolled away. But I can assure you that it wasn’t for Jesus’ benefit. It was for ours. It wasn’t so Jesus could get out. It was so others could get in and see that Jesus was gone.
Well, when the women saw what had happened, they did pretty much the only thing they could do. They ran to tell the others. They apparently split up, and Mary Magdalene went to Simon Peter and the other disciple whom Jesus loved and told them, "They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him."
This was enough to get these two guys out of hiding, and they took of running for the tomb, to see for themselves. Sure enough, the tomb was empty, and the cloths that had wrapped Jesus’ body were still there. The cloth that had covered Jesus’ face had been rolled up and put in a place by itself.
They stood there for a while, acknowledging that what Mary Magdalene said was true. Jesus was gone. The scripture even says that the disciple whom Jesus loved "saw and believed." So at least one of them presumably understood what had really happened. Then they did something only men could have done. They went home. And left Mary Magdalene standing there by herself.
Which is just as well, because what happened next would probably have scared those guys half to death. While Mary’s standing there crying, she bends down to look in the tomb again, and sitting there where Jesus’ body used to be are two angels. They ask her why she’s crying, and she tells them, "They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him."
As soon as she’s said this, she turns around and sees a man standing there. She doesn’t recognize him, though, and when he asks her why she’s crying, she figures he’s a gardener, so she tells him, "Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him and I will take him away."
It’s at this point that Jesus calls her by name. Mary! She recognizes him instantly and says, Rabbouni! That pretty much says it all. We can hear and feel all the emotions that are wrapped up in that one word. The pain is gone, the grief is gone, the despair is gone. In that one word is embodied all the love, the relief, the gratitude, the disbelief, the excitement that we’d feel if we were seeing a loved one who we thought was dead standing in front of us, calling our name.
If my mother walked into this church right now, and came down front and looked at me and said, Shelly, then I’d be able to understand what Mary Magdalene was feeling when she saw Jesus standing in front of her. Imagine how you’d feel if your husband, or wife, or sister, or child came walking in here, alive, healthy, calling your name. Some of your would probably pass out. Some would scream, or cry, or laugh. Most of all, we’d probably try to grab them and hold on to them.
And that’s exactly what Mary tries to do. Her first instinct is to reach out and touch Jesus, but he tells her, "Do not hold me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father." Why would he say this?
At John 16, verse 16, Jesus says, "A little while, and you will no longer see me, and again a little while, and you will see me." It’s possible that Mary Magdalene thought that the little while had already passed and Jesus was back with them for good. He wants to make sure that she understands that that’s not the case. He has not yet ascended to God, and he must do so, so she can’t hold on to him yet. She must take a message from Jesus back to the other disciples and tell them that Jesus is going to be with God.
There are many lessons to be learned from this Easter story. One of them is that Mary couldn’t find Christ because she was looking for a dead Jesus. He wasn’t dead. He was alive. Many people still make that same mistake. They keep looking for a Jesus who lived 2000 years ago. They’re impressed with what he did and what he suffered and the things he taught. But they have no experience of the risen Lord. They don’t walk with him day by day, and that means that their faith is something less than true Christianity.
Second, even though Mary searched all over the place, she couldn’t find Christ. It was Christ who found her. Isn’t that what we usually experience even today? Isn’t that the whole point of the Gospel? God is seeking us, not just when we’ve lost him and can’t find our way home to him again, but when we’re completely alienated from him, don’t miss him, and deliberately rebel against him.
Third, although she was seeking him with every ounce of her being, Mary didn’t recognize Christ when she did see him. That probably wasn’t completely her fault. Apparently the risen Christ was different in some way from the Jesus he had known in life. We can read at Mark 16, verse 12, that after his death Jesus appeared to some of the disciples "in another form." They didn’t recognize him, either.
That’s often the case with us even now. We see things with out human eyes and our human weaknesses. Even when God is at work, caring for us, we fail to see that he’s present, calling us to some service for him, and with his own hands fashioning us into the tool he needs for his work. Our eyes are shut and we don’t see him.
If you read all four Gospel accounts of the resurrection, you get a sense of the excitement that people were feeling. Once they saw that the tomb was empty, the women took of running back to the other disciples to tell them what happened. Then Simon Peter and the other disciple raced to the tomb to see for themselves, passing each other, trying to get there first, presumably with the women running after them.
The news was too much, the implications too great to just walk leisurely back and forth. I bet when Jesus sent Mary Magdalene off with another message for the disciples, she didn’t just meander her way back, either. I bet she ran as fast as she could.
"I have seen the Lord!" He’s alive! He’s risen! Not something you casually mention in passing. These are things you shout. This is exciting news! The tomb is empty! Death couldn’t hold him! He’s risen! He lives!
When we got up this morning, that’s the excitement we should have felt. Christ is risen! We should have felt like running and shouting Hallelujah! Christ is risen! He’s alive! Death has lost its sting!
We should be feeling that sense of awe and wonder and joy and gratitude. That’s what Easter is all about. There’s no victory in the grave! Christ is risen! He lives! He lives! Christ Jesus lives today!
