It is OK if our Alleluia is whispered
Collect
In the depths of our isolation we cry to you, Lord God: give light in our darkness and bring us out of the prison of our despair; through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen
Readings
- Exodus 14:10-
- Exodus 15: 20-21
- Romans 6:3-11
- Matthew 28:1-10
Sermon
Hope dashed.
Love dead.
Abandoned.
Alone.
Defeated
And in despair.
Darkness was her time, her place.
She walked, under its cover, to find the body of her Lord – the night a reflection of her soul.
It had been a long week. A long, long Friday.
In the garden of Gethsemane Jesus had asked his friends for just one thing. Stay with me – keep watch.
He knew what lay ahead – and he knew that in this upside-down history of salvation – the teacher would need his students in these dying hours – just as they had needed him before. The strong becoming the weak and the weak becoming the strong.
But the disciples fall asleep and then fall away. Frightened by what is happening – they run. Only one is left – but the women remain. They stay – they watch – and they include Mary.
And in staying they see things that no human should have to endure. The shameful death of their friend – their son – their teacher.
Naked, bleeding, despairing and in deep pain – he dies before them – above them – and apart from them – they can only stay and watch from a distance.
For there is no hand of comfort to hold; no gentle wiping of the brow, or kiss to making parting sweeter. The cross holds them back from the one they love.
Crucifixion was brutal to all involved. It could last days and even though they said for him it was quick – never have three hours felt that long.
And late on that Friday afternoon – their beloved’s body had to be given up to the grave far too soon – before it had been anointed – before they could touch his bruised skin with the tears of love and in doing so let his final moments be those of embrace.
No wonder on that Sunday – as soon as Sabbath had passed – and whilst darkness remained – Mary was at the tomb – looking for the body.
A last act of tenderness and devotion – for her teacher and friend.
A necessary moment of intimacy that was so badly needed to say goodbye.
But it was not to be.
There was no body touch to touch and anoint.
He was gone!
And her darkness becomes deeper in every way.
The first experience of Easter day is not joy but complete loss.
Even normal mourning is stolen from her.
We skip this too quickly usually – but we need to pause at this moment because we experience resurrection most profoundly when it is still dark and we are weeping.
In this Mary is our model.
Her depths are where we hear the Alleluia of Easter first whispered.
And it begins more as a sigh of pain than a cry of triumph.
But in that sigh is wisdom – when we’ve been through more than we thought we can endure and had the courage to stay long after we wanted to go – then we start to see things others might miss.
And she sees a gardener.
Now, many commentators say this is where Mary was mistaken, this is where she failed to see Jesus. They ask us to think about when we fail to recognise Jesus too – and there is some mileage in that.
But what if, like this whole episode, nothing is without significance.
What if far from not seeing – it is Mary – because of what she has been through – because of who she is – who really sees. In the way that pain so often gives us a unique and sharper lens on the world.
Tom Wright suggests that Mary was not mistaken – but by using the description of gardener gives us a much bigger and more profound picture of Easter.
“Too often,” he says, “the story is flattened into a belief in life after death or the truth that Jesus is still alive and we can have a relationship with him. ”
Both true.
But both miss the bigger picture.
Easter is nothing less than the story of new creation.
With Christ as the gardener, the true Adam, restoring the vineyard of Israel. And calling his people home from exile – to plant and begin again.
With the rolling away of the stone – it is not just that death has been defeated – and that Christ (both fully human and fully divine – reigns in heaven) but that because he rises from the dead a great door has been opened in human history – through which we are invited to go through – to become co-heirs and co-creators of this new covenant world.
At Christmas we celebrate that God chose to become human – awesome and spectacular – but at Easter – we celebrate that God risen in Christ invites us to share in the divine life. He became human that we also might partake in the divine. Which far from being the other side of death – is about now as much as forever.
Today we celebrate – even if we are in the dark or feel like weeping – because today we remember and experience the knowledge that we will never be left alone again. We are citizens of heaven – held in the eternal embrace of God’s love – called to see things differently – called to act differently. Because the difference starts now – and it starts with us.
He is Risen! Hear it as a whisper and a shout – pass it on in the same way.
Happy Easter.
Amen.