John 20:1-18
Early Sunday morning, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and found that the stone had been rolled away from the entrance. She ran and found Simon Peter and the other disciples, the one whom Jesus loved. She said, “They have taken the Lord’s body out of the tomb, and I don’t know where they have put him.”
Peter and the other disciple ran to the tomb to see. The other disciple outran Peter and got there first. He stooped and looked in and saw the linen cloth lying there, but he didn’t go in. Then Simon Peter arrived and went inside. He also noticed the linen wrappings lying there, while the cloth that had covered Jesus’ head was folded up and lying to the side. Then the other disciple also went in, and he saw and believed – for until then they hadn’t realized that the Scriptures said he would rise from the dead. Then they went home.
Mary was standing outside the tomb crying, and as she wept, she stooped and looked in. She saw two white-robed angels sitting at the head and foot of the place where the body of Jesus had been lying. “Why are you crying?” the angels asked her. “Because they have taken away my Lord,” she replied, “and I don’t know where they have put him.” She glanced over her shoulder and saw someone standing behind her. It was Jesus, but she didn’t recognize him. “Why are you crying?” Jesus asked her. “Who are you looking for?” She thought he was the gardener. “Sir,” she said, “if you have taken him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will go and get him.”
“Mary!” Jesus said.
She turned and exclaimed, “Teacher!”
“Don’t cling to me,” Jesus said, “For I haven’t yet ascended to the Father. But go find my brothers and tell them that I am ascending to my Father and your Father, my God and your God.” Mary Magdalene found the disciples and told them, “I have seen the Lord!” Then she gave them the message. (New Living Translation)
When I was a little girl, one of my favorite things to do was to go to K-Mart with my dad. Sometimes after supper, he would take me there, and while he would roam the auto parts department, I was allowed to look at toys and books. (In those days, parents didn’t worry so much about leaving their child unattended.) I would really get excited about the blue-light specials! If I behaved myself while we were there, on the way out of the store my dad would buy me an Icee. It was great fun. And I thought it was terrific that my dad wanted to spend time with me. Of course, my delight was somewhat lessened, when as an adult, I learned that the only reason my dad took me out to K-Mart was because when he got home from work, my mom had said, “If you don’t take one of these kids out of here tonight, I’m going to kill one of them!” Oh, well!
Anyway, one night after supper my dad told me to get ready because we were going to K-Mart. I put on my jacket and ran out the front door to go to the car, but I went out before he had turned the lights on. I ran about ten feet into the yard, turned around and yelled, “Daddy! There’s a big dark out here!”
I felt the same way standing beside my mother’s grave on January 17, 1996. Even though it was around noontime and overcast, inside it felt so dark. I had never known that kind of pain and loss. My mother, my best friend, was gone after a five-year battle with cancer. She had had four major surgeries, been hospitalized for over 30 weeks, gone through radiation and several rounds of chemo, and it had been really hard. She had been so courageous through it all, and her faith was like a tangible reality around her all the time. But now she was gone, and I couldn’t see my way forward from that place.
Like Mary Magdalene, I felt the need to visit my mother’s grave again the next day, and many days over the coming months. I remember one day standing there thinking, “I left the best part of myself here in the ground with her.” It was that painful. I only knew that there was a hole in me that I didn’t believe could ever be filled again.
The darkness that falls over us when a loved one dies is unlike any other. Grief is a long process, full of setbacks as well as moments of healing. We need to acknowledge the darkness, but not let it overwhelm us. How do we deal with that kind of loss as people of faith?
We turn to the stories of the resurrection of Jesus. And this is my favorite account in the gospels of that pivotal moment in history. After the resurrection, nothing would ever be the same again.
Mary had stood at the cross and watched Jesus die. She had followed Joseph and Nicodemus to the garden and watched as they laid the body of Jesus in the tomb, rolling a large stone across the entrance. And she had gone home to experience one of the longest nights in her life. Saturday, the Sabbath, passed slowly. She could not return to the tomb on that day. But on Sunday, very early, before the sun even came up, Mary made her way back there. She had to go. She couldn’t help herself. And while she was there, the light slowly made its way back into her heart.
First, Mary came to the tomb and found that the stone had been rolled away. She couldn’t understand. Why would the stone be rolled away? The only explanation that made sense to her was that someone had come and taken away the body of Jesus. Maybe she thought the soldiers or religious leaders wanted to heap more indignities onto his body. Maybe she thought someone had taken it away and hidden it so that they could not anoint his body and properly prepare it for burial, which they could not do on Friday because it was nearly the start of the Sabbath (at sunset). She decided that all she could do was go and get the disciples.
Next, Peter and John came running when they had heard Mary’s report. They saw the linen wrappings that had been around Jesus’ body and the cloth that had covered his head, which was folded and placed separately. The light was beginning to shine into the darkness. John saw these things and believed. But he must not have fully grasped the significance of the raising of Jesus from the dead, because all he did was go back home. He didn’t say anything to Peter or Mary about what he believed; he didn’t shout the good news to anyone who might be listening. He just went back home.
But Mary waited there at the tomb. And when she looked inside, she saw two angels. They asked her, “Why are you crying?” I’ve often thought that must be one of the dumbest questions ever asked. She was crying because someone she loved had died. That’s why she was at the tomb. Why else would she be crying? Anyway, she told them that she thought they had taken Jesus. She still couldn’t understand, even with the angels there, that Jesus might not have been taken, but might have been resurrected from the dead.
Finally, Mary caught sight of someone standing behind her. It was Jesus, but she didn’t recognize him. It’s funny how the tears can blur your vision. This man whom she knew so well, whom she had followed so faithfully and loved so dearly, was standing right there, and she didn’t know it was him. He asked her, “Why are you crying? Who are you looking for?” Mary assumed that it must be the gardener and thought maybe he was the one who had moved Jesus’ body for some reason. She asked where he had taken Jesus. Then Jesus spoke her name, “Mary!” And she knew immediately that it was Jesus. Finally, the light had dawned. And her life was changed forever. The world was changed forever.
When the disciples knew that Jesus was alive, when he had appeared to them and commissioned them to go into the world and spread the good news, they became bold evangelists and missionaries. The disciples went all across the Mediterranean world, and even to India, preaching and teaching and healing. Peter would go all the way to Rome. They knew that the threat of persecution or even martyrdom could hold no real power over them, because once the threat of death lost its validity, there was nothing that could hold them back. They knew that, after they died, they would also rise with Jesus in heaven. Death was no longer the end; it was only a transition. Eternal life was a reality because of the resurrection of Jesus.
When I stood by my mother’s grave that day, thinking that I had buried the best part of myself with her, I suddenly heard a voice inside me say, “No, you didn’t. You kept the best part of her with you. She lives in your heart.” It wasn’t an audible voice or anything, but I knew it was the voice of God. And all of a sudden, my grief began to lose its grip on me. I began to detect the beginning of the coming of the light into my life again. I felt so strongly the truth and the reality of resurrection from the dead, and it made all the difference to me.
I thought back to that night when I was a little girl facing the big dark out there. I was a little alarmed, but I wasn’t really afraid. Because I knew that my dad would come out into the darkness with me and keep me safe. He would turn on the lights or take me back into the light, but either way I would be okay. God came with us into the darkness of those days between Jesus’ death and burial. And God brought the light back into the world and into our hearts when he raised Jesus from the dead. Because he lives, we will also live. That is good news! That is the light that comes in the darkest place.
We are living through a very dark place right now. The pandemic that has swept across the world and across our country has taken thousands of lives and will take many more. We have watched as families described not being able to be with their loved ones at the moment of their death, and as nurses have described holding the phone so that family members could tell their loved ones goodbye for the last time. We have heard about unclaimed bodies being buried in mass graves in New York. We have gone to grocery stores with bare shelves and tried to order cleaners and paper goods online only to see that they are all out of stock. We have experienced the great toilet paper wars, for pete’s sake! We have heard about the millions who are now filing for unemployment, and about the businesses that may be lost for good. We have seen the reports of the spread of the virus every day on the news and we have wondered when it will all be over.
But I am here to tell you that there is a light in this darkest place. It is the light of the world, Jesus Christ, the one whom the grave could not hold, the one whom God raised from the dead. We know that Jesus lives today, because he lives in our hearts. And because Jesus lives, our lives are filled with hope. It will not stay dark forever. There will be an end to this most difficult time. There is light at the end of the tunnel. So, take heart. In this world we may have trouble; but Jesus has overcome the world. Jesus has overcome death.
Jesus Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed!
