The Rev. Kristin Krantz
St. James’. Mt. Airy
Easter Day
April 4, 2021
Acts 10:34-43
Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24
1 Corinthians 15:1-11
Mark 16:1-8
Alleluia! Christ is risen!
Christ is risen indeed! Alleluia!
We have circled back around to another pandemic Easter. But while last year we were treading the murky water of not fully understanding what was unfolding around us, this year we are seeing signs that life will be able to return to some sense of normalcy in the near future as more and more people get vaccinated.
Our vision for the last year has been to stay church, stay connected, and take care of each other. In theological terms we have been rooted in faith, hope, and love – all three of which are central to the Easter story, especially love.
It was love for Jesus that brought those women, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome, walking in the pre-dawn darkness, full of grief and fear, toward the tomb where they knew they would find him.
Imagine the raw determination that must have brought them there – at that time of day, that time in history, in that season of unrelenting violence. It is not those who were believed to be closest to Jesus that went – Peter was not there, nor the beloved disciple – no, it was the women, the ones who in the course of life tended to the unseemly but necessary tasks of daily life; they were the ones who showed up. [1]
And yet, their journey toward what was to be their final act of love and care for their friend and teacher, was laced with despair.
Though they brought with them spices to anoint his body, they must have known that by the third morning those spices would do little to abate the stench of death. And even as they approached the tomb, they anticipated their failure, since they knew that the stone covering the tomb itself would defeat their deed, as they had no way of rolling it back.[2]
But they still came, because they had to be close to Jesus, because their hearts led them there, because it’s what needed to be done after everything had fallen apart. And it was only because they showed up that they encountered the mystery of the resurrection.
Upon arriving at the tomb, the Marys and Salome found the stone rolled back and a young man in a white robe sitting to the side of the entrance. Like in all encounters with messengers of God, the first words he uttered were, “Do not be alarmed.”
And yet, what he said, what they saw, was alarming. Jesus was gone. He was not there for them to tend to.
The messenger then explained that Jesus had been raised and they were to tell Peter and the others that they would find him in Galilee, just like Jesus always told them they would. Upon hearing this, 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.[3]
It does not feel like it, but this, just this, is the end of the story in Mark’s Gospel according to some of the most ancient authorities on the scripture.[4] Other sources include the short ending that closes the passage as we read it today, with the women doing as commanded and sharing what they witnessed, and the assurance of eternal salvation.
But the earliest listeners would have most likely heard it end this way –
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.
Some have called this response one of faithlessness, completing the circle of all those who knew Jesus abandoning him, therefore showing the sinfulness of humanity in contrast to the faithfulness and divinity of Christ.
But I think this ending does something different, it makes sure we know we are in God’s presence. Because terror and amazement are words that describe one’s reaction to a theophany, to a revelation of God.[5] The resurrection is a revelation, an altering of the rules of the known world. And it is a sign of a love so profound that no words can ever truly describe it.
In the face of theophany, amazed silence is not a failed or inadequate response, it is not a sign of faithlessness. It is a wholly appropriate response, because the women’s silence created a space for the voice and presence of God to resound.[6]
What response could they make to that messenger? How could they, in that moment, tell the others about what they had experienced without making it into a story about what they saw and heard, instead of about what God had done?
Better to end it there, because this ending makes room for a new beginning. And it is the women who went to the tomb who show us where the next part of the journey will take us, something only possible because they showed up in the first place.
Their hearts brought them to a place where they found, not what they were looking for, but a revelation of God that changed everything they knew – and it brought them new life.
The same goes for all of us who have continued to show up in our daily lives over the past year. Everything has changed, it has been at times overwhelming, but just like the spring unfolding around us, green shoots are sprouting up and reminding us that new life always comes.
This is the power of the resurrection that we once again encounter today. It is the story whose ending is not an end, but a beginning – transforming despair to amazement – the ultimate sign of faith, hope, and love.
My prayer for us all on this Easter Day is that we allow ourselves to be terrified and amazed at the empty tomb, trusting that the story continues past what is merely written down. Because it is a story that has continued for over 2000 years, a story we have become a part of. And because it is our story, my hope is that we accept the gift of new life it promises, living resurrection lives and showing forth the light of Christ in the world. Amen.
[1] Feasting on the Word, Year B, Volume 2, pg. 354.
[2] Feasting on the Word, Year B, Volume 2, pg. 355.
[3] Mark 16:8, New Revised Standard Version.
[4] The Harper Collins Study Bible, New Revised Standard Version.
[5] Feasting on the Word, Year B, Volume 2, pg. 357.
[6] Feasting on the Word, Year B, Volume 2, pg. 357.