Unlike my other posts: Today is my Easter message that I
will preach in church today.
The story has to begin in darkness. That's what makes it
so incredible, unbelievable. Not incredible like it was awesome and
magnificent. I mean, un-believable, like they didn't believe it.
Let’s think about where the followers of Christ were
before we think about the resurrection. They spent Friday night and all day
Saturday without Christ.
Some of them had spent three years with him.
What was it like? What were they thinking? Feeling?
Well, some had scattered to different places, but I bet
most of them were together. They were afraid of the Jewish leaders and what
they might do to them now that they had killed Jesus. They assumed they each
had a target on their back now that he was gone. So there was fear.
So, in their homes and without much fanfare, they
gathered quietly trying not to draw attention to themselves and they grieved.
Have you ever grieved the loss of someone you loved, whether
in death or even just as a child when you moved away and knew that you would
never see your best friend again?
They probably went through times of talking, reminiscing.
They might recount some of the great miracles that Jesus had done. “Remember when
he healed that guy who was blind from birth! That was intense!” Or, “Remember
that lady who was pushing through the crowd, touches his cloak and there he is
surrounded by hundreds of people packed into that street and he says, ‘Who
touched me?’ and we are all like, ‘Who touched you? Everyone touched you!’ He
was incredible.”
But, I think they probably spent more time thinking about
Jesus Himself.
Not what He did, but who He was, and how He made you feel
when you were around Him. “He was so kind and so gentle.” Another would joke, “Except
when he said to Peter, ‘Get behind me Satan!’ That was rough.” “But, you know, I
never once doubted that He loved me. I just knew. I could feel it with my whole
being, body and soul, all that I am. I never once doubted that he loved me and
would do anything for me. He was just that kind of guy.” “I loved him.” And then,
the chorus of “Me, too” probably rung out.
Remembering Jesus was remembering the intimacy and the
love and the faithfulness and the kindness.
Like when we grieve today, the conversation was probably
intermingled with times of silence, the tears intermingled with laughter, the
great memories mingled with regrets.
“I wish we hadn’t run away. John tell us again what
happened at the trial.” Peter would have probably got up and walked away at
these moments, still carrying the shame of denying Christ, but unwilling or
unable to confess it all to them. So, he would go for a walk. No one would
suspect him if he did. They all needed some time alone.
At times, their hearts and the conversation would turn
ugly. If you have ever suffered grief because of another’s sin, you know what I
mean.
“I wish Judas was hung on that cross instead of Christ. I
can’t believe he did that!” “I wish the whole Sanhedrin were on that cross.
Bunch of hypocrites!” “What about that weasel Pilate! I hate him so much!” “If you
had seen the way those guards struck and spit on him… it made me sick. It was
like they were enjoying it. It was the worst thing I have ever seen.”
And then, maybe one of the women said, “But, His eyes.” And
the room got quiet, really quiet. “What?”
“His eyes. As I looked into His eyes, even when they were
striking Him, even at the very end, hanging there on the cross… There was no
hate there. There was pain. There was grief even like He was going to miss
being with us. There was even pity for the soldiers. But, no hate. There was
love. The same as when he sat here with us, teaching or eating with us. Pure
love. He was so amazing. I loved Him so much.”
And, the tears would flow again and the hate and rage
would subside.
Hours of this. The women gathered together with the men just
like when Jesus was with them.
Each one remembered Jesus’ love for them as a person… how
he has touched their life personally.
Peter clung to his wife and remembered how Jesus had
healed his mother-in-law. Mary Magdalene remembered how Jesus had saved her
from such a horrible life. Mary, Jesus’ mother, remembered what it was like
raising God from a boy.
Each one remembered when Jesus had called to them, those
few words that changed everything, changed the course of their lives, “Follow
me.”
It was as simple as that for many of them, but they
couldn’t resist His call. They left everything and followed. How could they
have done anything else. He was so loving, so amazing, his teaching was
compelling, the truth was overwhelming, and the eyes.
How could they go on? They would never again be able to
look into those eyes.
What would they do? Without Jesus to follow, where would
they go? What does their life mean now? So much confusion and disappointment.
“You saw me! I was ready to die for him, to fight for
him. I cut that guy’s ear off! I would have died right there in the garden and
known that I had done the right thing. No regrets! But, now, what now? I’ve
decided, I’m going back to the boats. I still have connections. I can get on a
boat and I can fish. That’s what I’ll do. If any of you want to join me…”
“Well, I can’t go back to tax collecting. I don’t know
what I’ll do. Maybe I’ll learn how to mend nets.”
“I was going to follow him to the palace, to war, to
victory. I don’t know how to follow him now.”
“He changed me. I just know that I am different. I can’t
go back. I have to go forward. But, I don’t know what that means. I just know
that things are going to be different.”
“Well, ladies, I know what I am going to do. I am going
to take the spices we bought and before the sun even rises tomorrow, I am going
to the tomb and get somebody to roll back that stone, and I am going to give
him a proper burial. The way they rushed to get him in there on Friday, it just
isn’t right. The least we could do is bury him properly. It’s the least we
could do.”
The Bible is clear that even though Jesus told them, even
though the Scriptures foretold it, even though they believed in the
resurrection of the dead, even though they had seen Lazarus and others raised from
the dead…they didn’t believe. They couldn’t believe.
The light had gone out and they were plunged into
darkness. Their world had caved in.
According to John’s telling, Mary went and seeing the
empty tomb, she ran back to tell the others. She was convinced that someone had
stolen his body.
After Peter and John had come and gone, there she sat,
weeping. How could this happen. The one thing that she could do… The one plan
that she had… to take care of the body of her Lord, was ruined. Someone defiled
her Lord’s body, stole it.
She might have been thinking, “Is there no end to this
misery? They beat him and tortured him, they mocked him and spit on him. They
killed him! Couldn’t they just let us bury him in peace? Why would they take
him? Where would they take him?”
As she wept, facing into the tomb, the sun low on the horizon
behind her, someone came up from behind casting a shadow over her. She looked
up, unable to recognize who it was, but she hoped it was someone who knew where
they had taken the body. Who else would be here so early? Maybe the gardener.
John 20:15 He asked her,
“Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking
for?”
Thinking he was the gardener, she said,
“Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will
get him.”
16 Jesus
said to her, “Mary.”
She turned toward him and cried out in
Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means “Teacher”).
At this point, she probably did what any of us would have
done. She went to him. She kissed him. She hugged him. She clung to him. She
held him so tight that she told herself that she would never again let go. She
would never again let Him out of her grasp. Her love overflowed. It burst from
her so naturally.
“He is real. He is here. He is mine. I will never let Him
go again.”
And in verse 17, Jesus said, “Do not hold on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. Go
instead to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your
Father, to my God and your God.’”
With her world turned upside down once again, she
probably couldn’t even put words to her racing thoughts, “Wait, what? No, you
can’t go! Do you know what we’ve been through? The darkness…the despair…the
pain…the hopelessness. You can’t leave now. You must come back with me. You must
come and see everyone.” And, then he was gone.
Collecting herself, (she must have been quite a mess by
this time), she ran. She ran to the disciples.
18 Mary Magdalene went
to the disciples with the news: “I have seen the Lord!” And she told them that
he had said these things to her.
Are you like Mary Magdalene? Have you
seen the Lord? Were you in darkness? And, now are you in the light? Well, don’t
just stand there looking confused. Go tell someone. Go tell them of the overwhelming
joy of seeing Your Lord.
He is risen!
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