Our Sermons

Bible Passage: John 20:1-18
Pastor: Pastor Schlicht
Sermon Date:  April 12, 2020

Augustine of Hippo, often called St. Augustine, once wrote about how people apply faith in the resurrection. He said, “There are those who die with equanimity, [mental calmness or composure especially in a difficult situation] but perfect are those who live with equanimity. In other words, you are truly blessed if you not only die in peace, but live each day without freaking out. The point he was making is that we ought to apply the truth of Jesus’ resurrection to every second of our lives, not just dust it off and bring it out for funerals. I think this perspective is paramount. Not just because it’s Easter morning. Not just because we are in the middle of a pandemic. But primarily because by nature our hearts are haunted by fear. By the possibility of losing all that we hold most dear. Applied faith in Jesus’ resurrection is the only thing that will allow us to love fearlessly. Trusting the truth that Easter teaches, trusting that it doesn’t end like this, is the only perspective that will provide equanimity, in life as well as death. Case and point is the story of Mary Magdalene on Easter morning.

We don’t know all that much about this woman who was first to see Jesus after his resurrection. She is called Mary Magdalene, literally recorded as Mary the Magdalene after her hometown of Magdala in Galilee. The Bible mentions her only in relation to Jesus’ crucifixion and the resurrection, except Luke tells us that Jesus once cast out 7 demons from her. So she was undoubtedly close to Jesus. She was one of the few who had followed him from the early days. She was one of the few who had the courage to stand there in front of his cross and be with him as he died. She was also one of the women who went to the tomb early on Sunday morning, while it was still dark, to embalm Jesus’ body. She had a quiet strength that would enable her even in the midst of disappointment to still go to the place where her dream died and do the best she could with what she had. 

This is how John records that first Easter morning. Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb. She saw that the stone had been taken away from the tomb. 2 So she left and ran to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one Jesus loved. “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb,” she told them, “and we don’t know where they put him!” Notice right away that Mary assumes that Jesus didn’t rise from the dead. Despite the repeated times Jesus had talked about his resurrection, she didn’t come to see him alive. She brought spices. She didn’t come to celebrate the resurrection that first Easter. She had come to embalm a corpse. And even when she sees that the heavy stone has already been rolled away, she doesn’t allow herself to wonder if he actually could be alive. She immediately jumps to the conclusion that someone must have stolen his body. That says a lot.

I find that often the greater the faith, the deeper the disappointment. When you really believe in something and put your trust in it, and it fails or lets you down, the disappointment runs deep. This is certainly the case for Mary Magdalene. I don’t know what her life was like before meeting Jesus, but demon possession is a dark thing, horrible both spiritually and physically for the possessed. Mary had 7 demons. What was life like having that much evil and darkness taking up residency in your body? But Jesus set her free. She goes from that reality to being “numbered among the disciples.” From demon holder to Jesus follower. He gave her her life, he gave her purpose, and a future. He pointed her to this new kingdom he was ushering in and she was so looking forward to being there with him. But then came the cross. She watched him suffer, she watched him die. She was there to see his bloody body taken down and carried off to the tomb. So no, she is not there on Sunday morning to witness Jesus’ resurrection. She was looking for a corpse. She went to say her final goodbye and try and then figure out how life moves forward now that Jesus is gone.

The greater the faith, the deeper the disappointment. Perhaps that’s your experience as well. Perhaps that’s why you have trouble getting your hopes up anymore. It’s your defense mechanism against disappointment. Because if you don’t expect things, you don’t have to be vulnerable. Hope is vulnerable. Faith is vulnerable, it puts you in a place where you have to depend on someone, you have to have expectations. Mary isn’t foolish for not expecting a resurrection after seeing the stone rolled away. She isn’t foolish, she’s just human. Who would let themselves hope for anything in her position? Who could have expected a resurrection after Friday? How could she open up her heart to further pain? How could she ever believe in anything again? And so, even though it is Sunday, the very day she should’ve expected to see an empty tomb, she finds herself running away from the possibility of a resurrection. 

Mary ran to see Peter and John and tells them her theory about someone moving the body. They run to check it out themselves. And poor Mary follows them back to the tomb. After they inspect it and see the grave clothes, Peter and John head back to wherever they were hiding out, but Mary stayed at the tomb. And keeping in mind her deep disappointment will help us understand what happens next. John writes, But Mary stood outside facing the tomb, weeping. As she wept, she bent over, looking into the tomb. (Stone tombs were usually dug downward into the side of a hill, so to look further than the entrance into the sepulcher would require her bending down.) 12 She saw two angels in white clothes sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and one at the feet. The two angels, many commentators believe, looked like ordinary men but dressed in conspicuously white clothes, much like the angels who appeared as normal humans to Abraham and Lot in Genesis. Ultimately, I want to be clear, we can’t be quite sure what they looked like. But based on Mary’s lack of fear, we don’t get the impression that this was the same type of brilliant angel who rolled the stone away earlier that morning. The one whose mere presence caused the guards to pass out. 13 They asked her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” At first this could sound like an insensitive question. But these angels don’t ask it in ignorance. It’s as much a statement as a question: “Jesus told you he would rise, “Why are you weeping?” In other words, “It doesn’t end like this!” But Mary is, again, consumed with grief and she still is holding onto her initial assumption: She told them,“Because they have taken away my Lord, and I don’t know where they have laid him.” She is in a dark place, in a pit of fear, confusion, and grief. Jesus, the one she staked her life on, is dead, and she thinks someone stole his body. She can’t even honor him with a decent burial.

And that’s when Jesus shows up. After she said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, though she did not know it was Jesus. 15 Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? (There’s that question again!) Who are you looking for?” Supposing he was the gardener, she replied, “Sir, if you carried him off, tell me where you laid him, and I will get him.” Some skeptics get all over the fact that Mary didn’t recognize Jesus, but the more you think about it, the more it makes sense that she doesn’t instantly recognize him. It’s still probably early in the morning, so there isn’t as much light to see clearly. And she is looking through dense tears, thinking all along Jesus is dead. So he is the last person she expects to see. I actually love the honesty of the Gospels. The Holy Spirit inspired each writer to report the events without concern for apparent problems. If you just read through the accounts and consider the perspectives, it really makes more sense that Mary doesn’t immediately recognize the resurrected Jesus.

And it doesn’t take long at all for her to figure it out, either. In fact just one single word. 16 Jesus said to her, “Mary.” She turned and replied in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means, “Teacher”).  Such a special moment here. Mary was in this fog, determined to believe that Jesus was dead. Determined that this was the end. She is in a fog, she can’t see because of her tears. But she can still hear. And the one thing that is able to cut through is the sound of Jesus’ voice calling her name. “Mary” and then John decides to record her actual response in the Aramaic, “Rabboni” which was what she would have called Jesus personally.

I wonder if you need to hear your Savior’s voice today. To ask you, “Why are you weeping?” Hear him say your name. Let him cut through the fog—the hardship, the pain, the despair, the anxiousness, the grief. Hear the risen Lord remind you, “It doesn’t end like this.” Jesus stands before you today alive, resurrected physically from the grave. Your story cannot end in hopelessness. Your story cannot end in fear. It doesn’t even end in the grave. Jesus will call us one day to leave this veil of tears and be with him forever!“Why are you weeping?” It doesn’t end like this? Can you hear Jesus calling your name? 

I was watching Sherlock Holmes with my wife, Rachel, a few weeks ago. It is quite intense and I have an unfortunate habit of getting quite nervous when things get intense. Often to the point where I begin to bother Rachel, who is already more than patient with me. So we’re watching this episode where Sherlock is faced with a choice between two pills, one of which will kill him. And I’m starting to freak out. “Is Sherlock going to die? How’s he going to get out of this situation? What is he doing?! Don’t swallow the pill! And Rachel says, “Peter, this is season 1.” And it hit me, “It doesn’t end like this.” There’s four seasons! He’s going to have to come back and get into more tense situations next season! And I was put at ease for the rest of the show because, although I didn’t know how he’s going to get through it, I knew it wouldn’t end like this.

That is the comfort of the resurrection. I don’t know exactly how our world is going to get through the Coronavirus, but I do know it doesn’t end like this. I’m not sure what’s going to happen in the near future with our country, our church, and our families with social-distancing, but I know that it doesn’t end like this! I know that you may be in a dark place right now, but no matter how hopeless it may look, it doesn’t end like this. Stop freaking out, it’s only season one. Even if you are looking at a grave inscribed with the name of someone you love: It doesn’t end like this. 

My dear friends, without faith in the resurrection you will constantly be beset by the fear. The possibility of losing what you love will haunt your happiness. The possibility of disappointment will hang over your expectations like an executioner’s sword. The possibility of losing faith will make you hesitant to practice your faith. The possibility of death will temper every second of joy in your life. But Jesus’ resurrection promises you a Beloved whose love cannot be lost. It promises you a Friend who will never leave you nor forsake you. It promises you a Father and a Brother, an eternal family of believers that will live together forever. It sets before you the prospect of fearlessness, of equanimity, in life as well as death. Let us trust that it doesn’t end like this. Jesus is alive. Alleluia! 

Amen.