Just Beginning: April 1, 2018

Year B, Easter                                                          
Mark 16:1-8                                                             
            

            I like happy endings.  If I learn that a book doesn’t have a happy ending, I don’t read it.  If I accidently read a book that has a bad ending, I feel betrayed and angry.  I want a neat and tidy ending.  I know that life is not like that.  Our problems aren’t resolved in 250 pages.  Sometimes they are never resolved, which is why I need it in my books.  Therefore, I have always found it strange that I am so fond of the ending of the Gospel of Mark.  The last line is: “So they went out and fled from the tomb for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone for they were afraid.”  If you read this in Greek, which was the language in which it was originally written, the last sentence is incomplete.  Mark didn’t even finish the sentence.  It’s like his pen ran out of ink or he decided he needed a snack and just forgot to add the conclusion.  It’s that abrupt.

            In the other three Gospels, Jesus appeared in bodily form to the disciples and the women who came to the tomb.  In the Gospels of Luke and John, Jesus shared a meal with the disciples.  He even did a little fishing.  In Mark, we end with an empty tomb and a strange man telling the women that Jesus had been raised and was going to meet them in Galilee.  But no one actually saw the risen Christ. If that was not bad enough, the last line said the women ran away and said nothing for they were afraid—which means that they never told the disciples.  They never shared the good news. 

            For centuries, people have struggled with the ending of Mark.  In the earliest translations, there is no evidence of verses that come after verse 8 (which is where we ended today).  However, within less than 100 years of the writing of Mark, there is evidence that additional verses were added. The theory is that people were uncomfortable with the ending because there was no real conclusion. It essentially ended on what we would now refer to as a cliff hanger.  If it was a TV show, you would hear a voiceover that said, “Did the women ever tell anyone about the tomb?  Did Jesus show himself?  Was he really resurrected? Find out next week on the Jesus Story!”  Yet there was no next week.  The story just ended. 

            Because that was such an unsatisfactory ending, someone added a few verses. That is why if you look at most Bibles, there will be an option for a shorter ending and a longer ending. There is an additional 12 verses that uses text from the other Gospels to fill in the gaps and show Jesus Christ risen and interacting with his disciples.  What this proves is that even the earliest Christians were desperate for a good ending—which is completely understandable.  The early Christians were building a movement. They needed something that they could lift up, a narrative that would provide hope for those Christians who were being persecuted.  An empty tomb and people running away scared isn’t exactly a rallying cry. 

            But what if we look at it a different way?  Instead of it being an unsatisfactory ending, what if it is an opportunity for a new beginning?  To try to put an ending on this story…to edit the story so that it could be more palatable, is a mistake. Because this is not our ending to control. We don’t get to decide how this part of the story is told.  What we do have, is an opportunity to be a part of the new beginning.

            One of the awesome aspects of the Gospel of Mark is that it is a Gospel of expectation, of what is to come.  That is what our church is about. When we look at the church calendar, we see many beginnings.  Advent, which is the season before Christmas, is the beginning of the church year.  It is a season of expectation for the birth of Christ.  Lent is also an opportunity for new beginning.  We talk about the need to repent.  Repentance is not just saying “I am sorry” and moving on, it’s about a complete change of orientation.  It’s the act of turning around and starting over.  Then we have Easter, where Jesus defeats death and comes back to life, for a new beginning.  After Easter we enter the season of Pentecost which marks the coming of the Holy Spirit and the beginning of the church.  Every season of the church offers a chance for a new beginning. 

            Some people criticize the church as being stuck in the past or being overly concerned about guilt and judgment.  That could not be further from the truth.  Yes, we honor the past and hopefully we learn from the past.  We also admit our guilt in our confession every Sunday.  But those things are only part of the story.  If the story of our faith ended with guilt and condemnation, that would make for a horrible ending.  But it doesn’t, because with every season and every Sunday, we have an opportunity to start over.  Our faith is a faith marked by new beginnings.

            When the women saw the empty tomb, they were understandably confused.  There was an angelic visitor there who told them, “Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified.  He has been raised; he is not here…But go, tell the disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.”  It’s odd that he mentioned Peter by name.  The angel told the women to go tell the disciples.  Peter was one of the disciples.  Why did he have to be specifically named? 

            One theory is that he was mentioning Peter because there was a very real chance that Peter felt bad about the fact that he had denied being a disciple of Jesus.  Peter might have thought that he had ended his relationship with Jesus because of his denial.  Perhaps he thought that if Jesus really was back from the dead, he did not want to see the man who had denied him.  That was what I would have thought if I was Peter.  That is why the angel specifically mentioned Peter. Jesus had not just risen for a select few…a select few who deserved to see him again.  He rose for everyone.  This was a new day and a new beginning. 

            Maybe you are here today for the first time in awhile and feel a little uncomfortable about that. Guess what? We are all starting over, so you are not alone.  It is never too late to come back to faith or rekindle your relationship with God and the community of faith.    Jesus rose for you.  He lived, died and was resurrected for every person here, even those who do not deserve it, which is everyone by the way.  No one deserves God’s unconditional love, but he gives it anyways.

            As I said at the beginning, I like the way Mark ends.  However, I am not sure I would have if I was hearing it told in the first century and if I had not heard the other Gospels.  I would have liked some certainty and clarity.  While it might not be the ending we want, it’s the ending we all need.  Because it forces us to enter into the story, be part of the ongoing story of Jesus Christ.  We aren’t just reading the story, we are participating in it.

          We have an opportunity to live in the promise Mark made so long ago---the promise that we will meet the risen Christ.  Remember, the angel said that Jesus was going ahead of them…ahead.  That is why we continue to move forward and sometimes start over.  We do that so we too can meet the risen Christ.

I have seen the Lord: March 27, 2016

Easter, Year C                                                
John 20: 1-18                                                 

            In our Gospel reading for today, we have four characters:  Mary Magdalene, the unnamed beloved disciple, Peter and Jesus.  Mary is the first who we encounter.  She was the first to go to the tomb, presumably to anoint the body. When she arrived she found that the stone (which was more like a boulder) was rolled away.  She didn’t investigate further.  She did not look inside the tomb. She immediately ran in panic and told Peter and the beloved disciple what she had seen.  She assumed that the body has been stolen or moved.

            The beloved disciple was the next to approach the tomb.  He and Peter raced there.  He got there first and peered in.   Peter was close behind and rushed in past him.  It was only after Peter went in that the beloved disciple entered the tomb.  Once in the tomb he saw the linen wrapping, the clothes that Jesus had been wrapped in before he was buried—that was when he saw and believed.  The text also said that he did not understand the scripture that Jesus must rise from the dead.  This is a little confusing, but I will come back to that. 

            The last person to arrive at the tomb was Peter.  While he was the last to arrive, he was the first to go in. He was always impulsive—act first and think later.  The Gospel of John does not tell us what Peter thought.  However, the Gospel of Luke tells us that Peter was amazed.  Both the beloved disciple and Peter left as soon as they had seen the tomb.  Mary stayed and wept. 

            Each one of these disciples of Jesus had very different reactions to the empty tomb.  Peter was amazed, which means he was in a state of awe and wonderment.  The response of the beloved disciple is somewhat mysterious. It says that he saw and believed but it also says that he did not yet understand the scriptures about Jesus rising from the dead.  We know what he saw.  What did he believe?  I am not sure it matters.  The point is that he believed in something.  The empty tomb gave him just enough faith to believe in something.

            Then there was Mary.  We have the most information about her reaction.  The first time she saw the empty tomb, she ran away scared.  But she came back and this time she stayed.  She stayed and she wept.  One can only imagine how much she had already wept.  She had stood at the foot of Jesus’ cross while he was slowly dying.  I imagine that on this day she might have been hoping for some closure to her grief.  What she found was a gaping hole---not closure.  

Out of nowhere appeared two angels. Mary did not recognize them as angels.  Had she realized who they were, she might have figured things out a little more quickly.  Instead she told them that they had taken away her Lord and she did not know where to find him.  Jesus then appeared and asked why she was weeping.  She didn’t recognize him either.  Only when he said her name did she finally realize that not only was her Lord alive, he was standing right next to her. 

            Each of these disciples reacted to the empty tomb in different ways, but it would be a stretch to say that this empty tomb allowed them to believe in the resurrection.  At worst it made them even more scared, and at best it gave them something to think about.  It was only when they saw Jesus in the flesh did they truly believe.  

Yet today, I stand before you asking you to believe something based on a story that someone told 2000 years ago.  I don’t even have an empty tomb.  This story goes against everything that we know and believe about how the world works, how the human body works.

            Each disciple’s faith journey was different.  They met Jesus in different places.  Jesus approached them in different ways. The beloved disciple believed in something, but could not fully comprehend what it all meant.  Mary only believed when she heard the risen Jesus say her name.   It would seem that the beloved disciple and Peter only truly understood the resurrection when Jesus made a dramatic entrance into the room where they were hiding.

            Much like the earliest disciples we all experience faith in different ways. Some of us don’t need a lot of convincing.  We have heard the stories since we were small and it just stuck.  Some of us don’t fully understand it all, but we still believe—we are not sure what we believe, but we believe in something and that thing leaves us wanting more.  Some of us are content with the mystery and wonder of it all.  Then there are many of us who look at that empty tomb and think, “What happened to Jesus?  Where did my Lord and Savior go when I needed him most?” 

            There is something that Mary can teach us.  She teaches us to rest in our doubt, and our fear and our grief.  The other disciples left.  They figured, well there is nothing else to see here.  Mary stayed and she wept…until Jesus called her by name.  I cannot help but wonder why Jesus came to Mary first. Why not the beloved disciple or Peter, the rock on whom he would build his church?  Why did he appear to the person who seemed the most confused, the slowest to understand?  Because she stayed.  She stayed at the foot of the cross when he was crucified.  She stayed at the empty tomb when she was afraid, confused, and probably a little angry.  She stayed.

            Sometimes we confuse faith with magic.  We think it should be effortless and immediate.   We imagine it coming in visions and transcendent experiences.  For some people, that might be true.  But for most of the people I have talked to, including clergy, faith is a struggle.  It’s a long walk full of confusion and confidence, doubt and assurance, grief and joy.  That might not be what you want to hear on Easter.  Easter should be about joy and candy.  While it is more complicated than that, there is joy and love and even transcendence on Easter. Because at the end of Mary’s journey, her trips back and forth to the cross and to the grave, she was able to proclaim to the other disciples, “I have seen the Lord.”  That is the most any of us can ask for, a moment where we can say with assurance, that we have encountered the living God.   

Consider the times in your life when you have encountered God.  It doesn’t have to be majestic.  It might be very simple.   When have you have felt close to God: the birth of a child, (the baptism of a child) the first time you felt love as an adult, the holy moment when you held the hand of a loved one as they slipped into the next world, a harvest moon that took you by surprise, the rainbow you saw because you were stuck in traffic on the HRBT.   I will give you a moment.   Those moments are precious and holy. 

What makes these moments faith sustaining is the ability to put them in the context of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection. That is why we meet in church to talk about these things.  Sure you can experience God outside of church.  Here is where we make the connections (between the ordinary and the extraordinary and to one another.) Sometimes it’s not all about joy and candy.  Sometimes it’s cold and rainy.  So we come together to remind ourselves and one another of these holy moments, to help one another see them more clearly. That way we can say together, “I have seen the Lord.”

             

April 20, 2014: John 20

Easter Year A                                                               

            It was my first Ash Wednesday as a priest and I was a little nervous about leading the church through Lent all on my own.  I was planning on visiting someone and stopped in the sanctuary to retrieve the reserved sacrament from the aumbry.  The aumbry is the wooden box between the main church and the side chapel.  When we have left over consecrated bread and wine, we put it in the aumbry.  In the Episcopal Church, we believe that Christ is present in the sacrament.  We call the bread the body of Christ and the wine the blood of Christ.  Even once the service is over, Jesus is still present in the bread and the wine.   When I looked in the aumbry, I realized that the container that held the bread was gone.  That container is always supposed to be there, even when it is empty. The only time it comes out is when we take it out during the service itself.  Of course I panicked.  My first thought was, “Oh dear God, someone stole Jesus. It’s my first Lent and Easter as a priest.  I am all by myself and I have already lost Jesus.”   I realize that my reaction was a little irrational, but I was very sincere.

            When Mary Magdalene saw that the tomb was empty, her first reaction was that someone stole the body of Jesus.  That reaction might seem a little irrational to us now.  Who would steal a body?  Didn’t she know that he was going to be resurrected?  Hadn’t she been listening?  It was a fairly reasonable fear, one that the other disciples probably shared.  One of the concerns of the Roman and Jewish leadership was that Jesus would be worshipped after his death.  This could happen in a couple of ways.  His followers could steal the body and tell everyone that he came back from the dead.  Or…his body would remain there and his burial site would become a place of worship for his followers, which would create problems for the Romans. 

While there was a rationale for a missing body I am still surprised that disciples thought the body was stolen after all that Jesus had told them when he was with them.  Yet we look at it through the lens of already knowing the end of the story.  Jesus’s followers didn’t have the Gospels all written out. Jesus told his followers about his resurrection, but he did not give them concrete details.  They had no idea how it would happen or what it would look like.  We really cannot blame them for expecting to find the body of Jesus in the tomb where he was buried and then be confused and scared when it was gone.

            Peter and the beloved disciple reacted to this fear and confusion by leaving the garden and locking themselves in a room with the other disciples.  Yet Mary stayed.   She wept and continued to gaze into the empty tomb. Through her tears she saw two angels in white who asked her why she was weeping.  She told them she was weeping because they had taken away her Lord and she did not know where to find him.  The angels did not respond and then for some reason she turned.  She turned away from the tomb and the angels within.  Perhaps she sensed there was someone behind her.  Maybe the sight of the angels disturbed her.  When she turned, she found Jesus.  But she did not know it was Jesus.  She thought he was the gardener. 

            One cannot help but wonder how Mary, someone who knew Jesus well, was not able to recognize Jesus.  Some have hypothesized that it was her tears that clouded her vision, literally and figuratively.  Perhaps her grief was so great she could not see properly.  She was so convinced that this was a stranger was not Jesus that she asked him to tell her where he had taken the body of Jesus.  Then Jesus said one word, her name.  That was all it took.  She heard him call her name and she knew that it was Jesus.  

            I often run into people from the parish outside of the church.  It might be a restaurant, the grocery store, the gym, any number of places.  Usually I recognize the person, but occasionally I don’t because the person is not in the right context.  But most of the time, I recognize the person long before they recognize me because I am really out of context.  I am not wearing my robes or my collar. We tend to put people in certain categories-- in boxes and it can be disconcerting when we encounter that person in an entirely different environment.   It’s not that we do not want to see the person; we just don’t expect it.  And in that moment we don’t always recognize the person, even someone we might know well.  I wonder if that was what happened to Mary on a much more dramatic scale.   She had seen him die.  She was there to mourn him, weep for him.  She was there to close this chapter of her life. Yet when she saw that tomb empty, everything changed. The paradigm shifted.  Her role as a disciple of Christ was not ended; it was just beginning. 

            While seeing the living Christ was comforting and hopeful, it was also disconcerting.   The first thing he said to her after he said her name was, “Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father.”  What?  There was no, “So good to see you, thanks for being one of the few people to stick with me through the end.”  No big hug.  Not even a reassuring hand on her shoulder. 

            It’s not that Jesus didn’t want to show Mary that he loved her.  I am sure he wanted to comfort her. However, he knew that the person she was clinging to was the person who died on that cross…the same person she was expecting to find in the tomb.  But he was not that person anymore.   He was the resurrected Christ and he could not be confined to the tomb, nor could he be grasped by human hands or hopes.

            It would be nice if we could always find Jesus in the last place we left him, like a tomb or an aumbry.  That way when we needed him, we could just visit him there, or possibly take him out and hold on to him for a while.  Yet Jesus refuses to be confined to a tomb.  He likes to surprise us and come to us in different forms when we least expect him.  I fear that often we get so wrapped up staring at the empty tomb (because that is where he is supposed to be) that we ignore the stranger standing behind us.  We are afraid to turn around because while the tomb is dark and empty, it’s what we know and understand. 

            I eventually found the consecrated hosts.  Someone had mixed them with unconsecrated hosts…which really blew my liturgically correct mind.   I ate them all…and there were a lot.  I have no idea if that was the right thing to do.  I wanted to make sure that the consecrated host was consumed, but I did not want to jumble them all together since some were not consecrated. 

Often we find that things that are holy and sacred are jumbled in with the ordinary.  Sometimes Jesus looks more like a gardener than God.   What we have to decide is if we are going to leave him in a box or allow him entry into every aspect of our life.  God does not typically come to us in bite sized pieces.  God comes to us in inconvenient times when we have 1000 other things we are supposed to be doing.  As lovely as our Easter service is, this is a tiny tiny glimpse of God.  And if this all we are experiencing of God, we are missing out.  We could leave this service and consider our Christian duty complete.  Or like Mary who finally turned from the empty tomb to start a new life, we too can leave and realize that our role as a disciple is just beginning.