Dare to Believe Again – “Up From The Grave: Lent Series”
John 20:10-18 March 8/9, 2003
Intro:
All of us have had “decisive moments” in our lives – moments which change the direction of our life in a decisive way. They are moments etched in our memories, ones we’ll never forget.
Some are surprising:
o “uh, dad, about the car…”
o “Honey, I’m pregnant.”
o Calvin comic
Some are painful:
o “There’s been an accident.”
o “The test was positive.”
o “I don’t want to see you anymore.”
And some are expected and anticipated and celebrated:
o “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
o “You’re hired.”
o “We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted…”
o “It’s a girl!”
At these decisive moments, we recognize that our lives are now changed – in many cases changed forever. The rest of the things that seemed important moments before pale in comparison, life suddenly takes on a whole new perspective, priorities are instantly different. The road of life makes a sharp turn in a different direction.
Near the end of the Gospel of John, we find two such decisive events – events that changed not only the course of a few people’s lives, but that changed the course of all history. The first was the death of Jesus on the cross, and the second was Jesus’ resurrection. We’re going to look today at how that cosmic change effected one person in Scripture and how it effects us still today.
Up From The Grave
Today is the first Sunday in Lent – the season of preparation for Easter. This 40 day period began last Wednesday, with Ash Wednesday, and is observed in many Christian churches as a time set aside to prepare for the greatest Christian season – the Easter season where we celebrate the death and resurrection of Jesus.
As I thought about what we should focus on during this season I came to the conclusion that our theological emphasis is perhaps a little unbalanced. It seems that we spend a great amount of effort on the work of Christ on the cross – on His death – and not so much effort on the resurrection of Christ from the dead and on what this means for us and for how we should live. It is not that any of our emphasis on the death of Jesus is wrong or misplaced or in any way twisted, or even that we emphasize it too much. But I do think that we emphasize the resurrection of Jesus too little. Paul states, in rather strong terms, “if Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith.” (1 Cor 15:14).
And so for our Lenten journey, I want to concentrate on the resurrection – on what it means for us that Jesus rose from the dead and conquered death, and on what that means for how we should live. I’ve titled the series, “Up From The Grave,” and each week I’m going to challenge us to “Dare” to live as children of the resurrected Lord. Today I want to talk about Daring to Believe Again.
John 20:10-18
Earlier in our service, we heard the first part of the story of John 20. Now I’d like to read the second part: read
A Story of Grief:
We don’t know a lot about who Mary Magdalene was. We know that Jesus had driven seven demons out of her (Lk. 8:2), and that she had become a close follower of Jesus. She was present at the crucifixion (Jn 19:25), and was one of the women who returned to the tomb early Sunday morning to anoint Jesus’ body for burial (Mk 16:1). And from this story in John 20, we see a woman in deep grief – we see the depth of her love for Jesus, and that she is distraught at the fact of Jesus’ death which she witnessed.
The death of Mary’s saviour, Lord, and friend, was one of those “decisive moments” in Mary’s life. She had followed Him, believed Him to be the Messiah, experienced personally the power of God in setting her free from seven demons and restoring her to her right mind. She invested her faith in Jesus, and then watched Him die on the cross. Like the other followers of Jesus, she was devastated.
So the first part of this story is a story of grief. She had seen Jesus die, had come prepared to find His body and anoint it with the burial spices, and instead she found an empty tomb. She (and the other women with her) assumed the Romans had moved Jesus’ body, and ran to get Peter and John, who race back to the tomb and see that Jesus is gone, and then they return home. And then Mary is left by herself. And in the midst of the grief and confusion and disorientation, she weeps. And she searches.
Grief is a part of our human experience, and it is a necessary part. We grieve when we experience loss – most profoundly at the time of death of a loved one, but also when we lose some independence as we age, or when we lose a job, or any other time when something we have valued and enjoyed is no longer a part of our life. It is a natural, healthy (although unpleasant), human experience – it is not something to just “get over” as if it was about us feeling sorry for ourselves – it is something to walk through. Grief often includes shock and disbelief. Anger is common, and appropriate especially when the loss has been unfair and sudden. Often our anger is directed at God, as we feel that He has somehow robbed us of something that has been of great importance to us. Depression – feeling a generalized lack of interest and enthusiasm in life – is often another stage. And then, sometimes quickly, sometimes much later on, comes acceptance and the ability to move on.
Mary Magdelene is in the first part of the grief experience – she is still in shock, and is understandably confused. She looks in, sees two angels, and appears to not even click with the fact that they are angelic beings – she is still concentrating on the location of Jesus’ body. And then Jesus appears, and in her grief she doesn’t recognize that it is Jesus until He speaks her name – John tells us she thought He was the gardener who might be able to tell her who moved the dead body and where it is now. The shock and confusion and devastation seem pretty obvious. The first part of the story is a story of grief.
A Story of Hope:
This is also a story of hope. Mary experiences a second “decisive moment” – when she recognizes the risen Lord Jesus, when she realizes that Jesus, whom she saw die on the cross, is no longer dead – but is now risen. Her grief turns instantly to joy, and she becomes a messenger for Christ.
I wish for all of us that our grief could evaporate instantly, like Mary’s did. I long for the next life where there will be no more pain or sadness or grief. But the fact is that the things we have lost, for which we grieve, do not generally miraculously re-appear. It reminds me of the three buddies who die in a car crash and go to heaven to an orientation. They are all asked, "When you are in your casket and friends and family are standing over you, what would you like to hear them say about you?"
The first guy says, "I would like to hear them say that I was a great doctor of my time, and a great family man."
The second guy says, "I would like to hear that I was a wonderful husband and school teacher which made a huge difference in our children of tomorrow."
The last guy replies, "I would like to hear them say......LOOK, HE’S MOVING!!!!!"
But that isn’t how it works. We grieve because we have lost something, and we are certain that loss is permanent. We need to walk through the process of grieving. And we need to find the other side.
Mary’s grief comes to a quick end because the circumstances change, her loss is restored – but there is something else at work here on a far larger scale. Something that brings hope to all of us. I’m certain Mary was not even aware of the cosmic scope of this decisive moment – but Jesus is alive!! Jesus’ resurrection was the evidence of the defeat of the power of death. Jesus defeated death. As a result – “the worst-case scenario” – which most of us would recognize right away as death – is no longer a “worst-case scenario!” Death’s power fizzles in the face of the fact that Jesus won!
So as Christians we grieve, but we grieve for our temporary loss, clinging by faith to the reality of Jesus’ resurrection. And that gives us reason to hope. That gives us encouragement to hope. That gives us power to hope. Death for the Christian is not a final end – it is a transition to the next life. We are confident of this through our faith in the power of Jesus’ resurrection.
In Mary’s experience here in Jn 20 we find the basis for our personal hope: the resurrected Jesus speaks her name. She thought it was the gardener – we don’t know why she didn’t initially recognize Jesus, or the sound of His voice – my own suspicion is that her grief dulled her mind to the point that she couldn’t accept the evidence her senses initially provided – but regardless of the reason, she at first didn’t know it was Him. And then He speaks her name. He knows her, He calls to her. And she recognizes Him.
Here is why we hope: Jesus calls your name too. You may not have recognized Him initially; you may have confused Him with someone else; you might feel blinded by the needs and pressures and grief of life. And into that – into the middle of your grief and your pain – Jesus calls your name. Have you heard Him in the past? Can you hear Him today? Jesus said, “The man who enters by the gate is the shepherd of his sheep. The watchman opens the gate for him, and the sheep listen to his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes on ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice.” (Jn 10:2-4).
Our hope come from fact that the resurrected Christ knows and calls us by name. He understands, He walks beside, He brings power to change. He knows you and the circumstances of your life – He knows the pain you feel at the loss of a spouse or a child, at the loss of a dream of love, at the loss of your health, at the loss of your ability to live as carefree and independently as you once did. Jesus has crossed over from human life to death, has defeated death, and has come back and called us by name to walk with Him. To be with Him in our brokenness and our pain. To recognize that it is His voice calling.
What difference does that make? First, we are not alone. Never. Jesus never abandons us. We might not always feel that way, but I believe we will eventually look back and see God’s faithfulness and see how He was present with us even those times when we didn’t feel like it. Even if we push Him away, run the opposite direction, abandon Him – I believe that when you turn back around, you will find Him close behind you.
Second, the Jesus who calls our name understands what we are going through. He’s been there. He has known loss, rejection, pain, and grief. He has been through it also, and can walk with you through to the other side.
And third, we are secure. The power that defeated death now holds us. The love that went all the way to the cross to secure us for eternity holds us through the present. People can face a lot of situations in life when they do so from a secure foundation, and the surest foundation is the truth of the love of God for us.
After He calls her name, Jesus makes a statement that is difficult to understand, vs 17: “Do not hold on to me, for I have not yet returned to the Father. Go instead to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am returning to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’” An alternate translation begins, “stop clinging to me,” which suggests that Mary wrapped Jesus in a big hug and didn’t want to let go. Jesus is explaining that He is in transition – He has risen from the dead, and is on His way back to the Father. And He sends Mary with a critical message – Jesus’ Father is now also the Father of believers. Jesus’ God is now their God also.
Can You Dare to Believe Again?
Mary obeys, and returns to the disciples with the confession of faith: “I have seen the Lord!” She testifies to her experience – her grief is turned to joy.
And that brings me to my main observation: Mary dared to believe again. Her world had come crashing down, she was in the midst of grief, but then she heard Jesus speak her name, and she dared to believe again. She dared to trust again. She dared to obey again. She dared to witness again.
What about you and I? I know some of you here right now are in the midst of grief – some of you are at the beginning stage of shock and disbelief. Some of you are angry; you feel betrayed and beat up and that life is unfair and you don’t deserve to have this happen to you. Some of you are depressed, feeling lethargic and drained. Some are getting closer to accepting the loss and going on with life. You have been hurt, your heart is full of pain – sometimes it is close to the surface, other times you’ve squished it away and locked it up tight, but it is still there. You are grieving, like Mary.
And like Mary, the resurrected Lord Jesus is calling your name. He knows you, He sees the tears you cry in the privacy of whatever tomb it is you are looking into. And into your pain and darkness, He is calling your name. He wants to take your hand and walk beside you, He wants to wrap His powerful arms of love around you and hold you tight, He wants you to experience His love tearing down whatever walls you have and leading you to repentance and acceptance. He wants you to feel secure in His love.
Will you dare to believe again?
You see, Jesus is alive. He died, was buried, and then rose again in mighty victory over death and sin and the devil. And He wants to fill us with His resurrection life. Will you dare to believe again?
What is our part? Listen. Hear your name on the lips of the risen Saviour. And then, like Mary, we need to respond. “Rabboni!” she cried – a testimony that she recognizes that this really IS Jesus, and then she runs to Him and embraces Him.
Conclusion:
Let me close with some Scriptures that I’ve connected together around the 23rd Psalm:
The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
Jesus said, “I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me. I call my own sheep by name and lead them out. I go on ahead of them, and my sheep follow me because they know my voice. (Jn 10:14, 4).
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am… I am the way and the truth and the life. (Jn 14:1-4, 6).
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Mt 11:28).
Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.
“And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” (Mt 28:20).
