Easter Day
Donna Joy

Mark 16:1-8

This past week we have walked with Jesus to the cross, and this morning we are reminded that this is not where the story ends; instead, it leads to new life, new hope, new possibilities, with the risen Jesus at the very heart of it all. Those who love him have suffered tremendous loss: He had been the answer to their prayers. He was supposed to be the One; that is, the long awaited one who was to set the world right – put it back into some kind of right order where justice prevails and equality is attained. Now, with his death, all their hopes have come to an end. They are terrified (through their association with Jesus their lives also could be at risk). I get the sense that their grief is heavy, weighing them down, probably to the point of deep and utter despair.

Mark continues the story with the briefest account of the resurrection. That is, three heavy laden women who love him approach his tomb, prepared to anoint his body. With this final act of devotion, this act of anointing may help them discover some closure on a once promising but now tragic story. But closure is not to be the experience they’re expecting.

As they approach the tomb, expressing their concern over the logistics of moving SUCH a heavy stone from the entrance, they discover that the stone has already been moved and Jesus’ dead, disfigured body is gone. Inside the tomb they encounter a mysterious ‘young man’; an angelic messenger. This whole angelic messenger ‘thing’ appears consistently throughout Scripture, regularly conveying a message that God is breaking into human history in extraordinary ways. This messenger seems to know exactly what is going on here, as he (1) urges the women to not be alarmed, (2) identifies the fact that he knows they are looking for Jesus, (3) relays the most incredible news: that is, this crucified Jesus ‘has been raised’ and ‘is not here…’ and (4) instructs the women to, ‘go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.’ Mark ends this story abruptly; despite these clear instructions they say nothing to anyone because they are afraid.

I suspect that each year when we recall any particular telling of this story, we may struggle to appreciate the disorientation and panic of this moment. It seems to me that this is too much for any human to grasp, at least in that moment. The angel has just shared with these women news of the climax of human history – the climax of God’s plan - a message that completely transforms what they have experienced over the past few days, and so – yes – initially this would have been inexplicably terrifying and incomprehensible.

This is the way we humans are when we receive big, surprising news: good or bad. Think, for example, of the time it has taken for us to grasp the news of a global pandemic. Initially, I think, we knew ‘intuitively’ that something had been forever changed, but it has taken time for us to begin to grasp this reality. I think the same was true for those women on that first Easter morning. Contrary to a pandemic, this is GOOD news, but it is BIG news signifying at some deep level that life has been forever changed. So it does not surprise me that they run from the tomb in ‘terror and amazement,’ keeping this news to themselves… at least for the moment.

But what could be understood as surprising is that Mark chooses to end his Gospel with the news of their silence. It feels somewhat like a cliff hanger, and of course New Testament scholars have wrestled with this ending for the past 2,000 years. I tend to agree with those who suggest that this is Mark’s way of inviting his hearers into the story. Kind of like: where he ends off, we enter in. He is inviting his hearers (past and present) to finish the story that the disciples in this particular narrative failed to finish. And this applies to not just these women but also the men who abandoned, betrayed, and denied Jesus.

Throughout this Gospel, Mark emphasizes faithful discipleship, but always within the context of frail, often misguided, self-serving, block headed, cowardly followers. These are the ones Jesus will rely upon to carry out his mission of healing and wholeness. Now, at first glance, this may not seem like a quintessential EASTER message. But if the divine, life-giving power by which Jesus heals broken humans and communities is the same divine, life-giving power that raises Jesus from the dead, then it would seem that these deeply flawed disciples, to the extent that they participate in Jesus’ healing mission, do in fact participate in a kind of resurrection ministry. Relying on this motley crew, his vision could easily appear impossible; but, with Jesus, the impossible becomes possible. This is, always, a resurrection story.

The message here is that God brings life in various, surprising ways, and God CAN work through his followers (that is, us) to bring life and wholeness to those who are broken, oppressed, persecuted. If life itself is one of God’s great miracles, then who are we to say that the God of miraculous life is not at work among us and through us? Christian discipleship is always an Easter ministry; always a continuation of the resurrection story.

If Mark’s ending is an invitation to Easter ministry, it is also a stark reminder of human fallibility. For there is nothing in Mark’s Gospel – least of all its ending – to suggest that disciples are capable of faithfulness to Jesus apart from Jesus’ empowering faithfulness toward them. Throughout Mark’s Gospel, when disciples fall short, Jesus is there to pick them up and empower them to try again. When they struggle to understand a parable, Jesus explains it for them. When they are slow to anticipate their role in feeding a hungry crowd, Jesus walks them through it. When they show self-aggrandizing priorities contrary to the sacrificial nature of Jesus’ ministry, Jesus shows them the way. And when the way of Jesus leads to his followers abandoning him, Jesus emerges from an empty tomb and summons them to Galilee for reconciliation and mission.

Today, as we arrive at this tomb – I think for many of us – we do so with tired, heavy hearts after a year of COVID related disease, continual disappointments, hardship, and grief, and we discover that he has risen from this place of disappointment and death. We discover that he is always a step ahead of us, and that he is always waiting for us in Galilee… Always holding us together. Always offering us healing and wholeness and relying on us - sustaining and empowering us - to offer that gift to each other and the world in which we live.

Today as we enter into this story we are called to discern how God is calling us to keep the story alive, because as Jesus’ followers at this time, on this day, in this place, we are called to move through that place of despair, toward Galilee where Jesus waits with outstretched arms. The ongoing resurrection story is found in us; through us. Despite our own frailty and weakness, Jesus rises through all that and lives on through our ministries. Your ministries. St. Peter’s March Ministry Month offered numerous resurrection stories.

Meanwhile, those women woke up the next day, only to discover that the world remained as messed up as it was before all this happened. The world had not miraculously changed. But in time, we can see that they and Jesus’ other followers have changed. And, certainly tomorrow, we will discover tomorrow when we wake up that this resurrection celebration has not miraculously removed the COVID virus, or the climate crisis; it will not have miraculously mended broken relationships, or an economic crisis; and it likely will not have lifted the weight we’re feeling from the challenges and disappointments of the past year. My hope and prayer, is that we may be renewed, and made ready to share that gift of resurrection hope with others, especially those who live in a state of despair. And as we embrace this sacred task, allowing our own frailty to be transformed and empowered, our lives – with God’s help – become the continuation of this resurrection story.

Alleluia! Christ is risen! The Lord is risen, indeed. Alleluia!