Mark 16Common English Bible (CEB)
Empty tomb
16 When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices so that they could go and anoint Jesus’ dead body. 2 Very early on the first day of the week, just after sunrise, they came to the tomb. 3 They were saying to each other, “Who’s going to roll the stone away from the entrance for us?” 4 When they looked up, they saw that the stone had been rolled away. (And it was a very large stone!) 5 Going into the tomb, they saw a young man in a white robe seated on the right side; and they were startled. 6 But he said to them, “Don’t be alarmed! You are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised. He isn’t here. Look, here’s the place where they laid him. 7 Go, tell his disciples, especially Peter, that he is going ahead of you into Galilee. You will see him there, just as he told you.” 8 Overcome with terror and dread, they fled from the tomb. They said nothing to anyone, because they were afraid.
From the sermon titled "Cautiously Optimistic." Preached on January 3rd at the University of Dubuque Theological Seminary
Just down the
hall from my office at the Avon Lake Presbyterian Church sits Cornerstone
Preschool. It occupies about one third of our church building – the middle
third – and as such has become a part of the daily life of the church. In the
summer, these classrooms play host to teams of missionaries – the rooms are
stripped bare to give the missioners room to set up mattresses and cots. Toys
are put away, many of the wall decorations removed.
But every year
in September the rooms once again spring to life. Bold paint schemes, lime
green and fire engine red, are nearly covered completely with bright images of
happy faces inviting the preschool children to come in and play a while. Brightly
colored carpets with jungle animals and ABC’s cover the floor space. Shelves
full of learning toys, bricks and blocks beg to be played with. And as though
that was not temptation enough, sand and water tables used to inspire play and
creativity beckon for the children to create and imagine. “Swimmy”, the class
turtle paddles back and forth in his aquarium, just as eager to meet a new
classroom full of excited kids.
All the
elements are here for countless days of learning and fun. It is a veritable
potpourri of endless joy for little hearts and minds. What child would not run
into the room and find themselves engrossed in something wonderful? What child
would not try and build castle out of blocks, or bake an imaginary pie in the
little kitchen playset?
As it turns
out, almost all of them would not. Not on that day. Not then. The day I am
speaking of is in second week in September. This is day one of preschool. This
is, believe it or not, terrifying.
Instead of the
jubilant shouts of joy I will soon get used to hearing from down the hall, on
this day the laughter is replaced with tears. Walking in the room reveals that
a few of the children are getting on with play, a few are slowly examining the
toys on the shelf without touching them as though they know that these things
do not belong to them.
A majority,
though, are ignoring it all. They stand at the feet of their parent, grasping
on to the pant legs. Their backpacks, though small, seem to dwarf the little
boys and girls and appear almost comical – as though they expect to receive a
stack of books in which to do research. Their chubby faces are flush with
color, as they look up, with great big eyes full of great big tears as they
plead, “No Mommy, I don’t want to do this, I want to go home!”
Parents,
knowing that this is the best thing for their little cherubs, reassuring reply
“Everything will be fine, trust me.” All the while holding back tears of their
own. The process of beginning our children in preschool is part of a bigger
plan that we have for them, but knowing this doesn’t make it much easier to let
them go that first day.
__________________
Ever since I
learned in seminary that scholars believe that the Book of Mark ended here I
was hooked.
“Overcome with terror and dread, they fled from the tomb. They said nothing to anyone, because they were afraid”
What a
frustratingly terrible ending! All the work of Christ all these years and this
is the best ending possible? God does this amazing thing – this thing that they
have been waiting for – this thing that they have been promised – and they run
away and tell no one. This is like a bad play. This story isn’t supposed to be
a tragedy – this is supposed to be a story of conquering death! It is almost as
if Mark decided he didn’t want to tell anymore of the story. It is as though he
had to be somewhere and so he buttoned it up and put down his pen.
I am not alone
in this frustration with Mark. More than a few scribes felt the ending was so
off base that they wrote their own. They didn’t even do a very good job – Mark
ended the Gospel with “They said nothing to anyone..” and the scribe
immediately starts the next verse with “They promptly reported all of the
instructions to those who were with Peter…”
The two
sentences completely contradict each other. The new ending may be easier to
digest, but it simply doesn’t fit Mark’s narrative. This isn’t Mark’s style.
Mark is
perfectly fine with ending the gospel this way, because that is what happened
They were
afraid. The women were terrified. There is no translation error here, no
textual variant to explain away the English. They were so struck with fear that
they thought they simply could not continue.
Despite all the
hard work, all the struggle, despite God’s promises of this over this moment
over the past several generations…they simply cannot process the victory.
With the good news staring them in the face, they flee the scene.
What is wrong
with these people?
I have a
confession to make. I have been there. I have seen the empty tomb and heard the
good news and I have still let fear get the better of me. Like in the story of Jonah,
I seek desperately for a one way ticket to anywhere else, away from God’s call
and into the relative safety of something I can control.
In this day and age it seems as though it is spiraling out of control. A
string of bad news articles seemed to start sometime in 2016 and wouldn’t let
up. They were relentless. As the spouse of a police officer this has been one
of the most difficult years for us. I have been scared. This is a broken world
that can be terrifying.
Hearing the recent news that the president has placed a ban on refugees from entering the country breaks my heart. Where are we? What is this place?
Mark’s dismal
account was written around 70 AD, when war had ravaged the known world, when
militaristic empires held the oppressed and the marginalized to the ground
under foot. Mark’s context was a bleak and dark time in history where the
temple had been destroyed, when all these people loved had been lost, when life
seemed too hard to carry a message of hope.
This world that
is still broken, though progress has been made.
This broken
world that, in a few months, I am supposed to face head on. In a few months I
am supposed to leave the shelter of my seminary, away from my cohort family
and friends who lend me support. Away from the wisdom of my professors to go
out into this mess and do something to make this world better.
Me.
For four long
years I have clawed my way up this mountain with a small group of individuals
who would become friends and something more – team members – brothers and
sisters.
And over the
past few years of climbing up the mountain, I could look to my right or my left
and see that some of us who began the climb are no longer here. And now after nearly four years, I can see the summit.
I can see the
summit and even though I know it is faster to go over the top, part of me is
terrified to see what is on the other side. I know that I face a broken world that will do what it can to fight against my Christian values - the values that tell me to support the widow, the orphan, the immigrant. To stand for the oppressed, the marginalized, the refugee...
Like a
preschooler yearning for the protection of his parent I look up and say “I
don’t know if I can do this, God. I think I want to go home.”
Unlike the
preschooler, I have the benefit of
hindsight. I know God. I have come to meet God and I have seen God’s glory. I
have felt the presence of the spirit. I have been lifted up. I have heard God’s
promise.
I am here at this point in this world in this life because God called me here.
You are here
because God called you here.
If the current status of the world seems to turn your stomach, you are not alone.
You are chosen
for a task. You are elected, selected, raised up, - however you want to say it.
All this
because the good God who made everything, the same one who was there before
time began, the same God who created the universe and everything in it created
you , the same God who set the wheel in motion at the beginning to get to this
point to have you sitting right there…
The same God
who rolled away the stone, who proclaimed victory over death, who made the lame
walk and the blind see
The same God
who is coming back to reconcile all things
That God put
you right there, in this place, right now. You with all your experiences and
your hurt and your pain and your mess. You with all your love and your wisdom
and your compassion.
I am not
perfect, but thankfully God is aware of this. The angel at the tomb, after all,
did specify that the Good News be proclaimed to Peter – who’s most recent deed was to
deny Christ. If the Good News is given to a traitor to deliver to the world,
surely we can handle it.
Because God
will save the world - Christ will redeem the world, not us. Not you. Not me.
But it is
through your compassionate heart, your diligent prayer, your helping hands,
your message of hope… it is through you that this work is done.
By the grace of
this incredible God who always follows through. Though you may be afraid, like
I am, at what the world out there holds for you, know that like a mother hen
who gathers her chicks under her wing, like the parent of a frightened 4 year
old about to start something new, God is saying “Trust me. You will be okay. I
have big plans for you”
I think back to the day of epiphany, just a few short weeks ago. The celebration of God's great revelation that is Jesus,
born of an ordinary girl in a broken world in the lowliest of places to walk
beside us in our task.
God can fix
this if we trust the Spirit. God can fix this broken world and we get
to help God do just that.
The temptation will be there to shout obscenities, to post nasty words on social media, but then hide in our homes.
The desire may be there to riot in anger, to cause conflict, to hurt others....but this is not the Good News.
We receive no promise that the task will be easy. The temptation will be there to run in fear and tell no one. Maybe that is easier, and like the women in the story – the women chosen to proclaim the gospel – you may think you need to be silent.
But the Good
News can’t be hidden under a bushel basket. We may not have the rest of the
story at the end of Mark, but the women must have told someone at some point,
because the word is out and on display for all to see.
Greet this year
not with fear, but with hope.
Share the message of reconciliation and love.
At
the very least, remain cautiously optimistic, for the world is looking toward
you so you can point them toward something bigger than the mess.
The fact that
the world is so messed up right now, so hurting, so broken, only means that the
world needs you – and that the world needs to hear the life giving message of
the gospel – more than ever.
What a
wonderful thing to be doing. What an incredible God to proclaim.
What an exciting time to be a Christian. You have work to do, friends.
Amen.
I leave you
with the words of the African American theologian, educator and civil rights
leader, Howard Thurman:
When the
song of the angels is stilled,
when the
star in the sky is gone,
when the
kings and princes are home,
when the
shepherds are back with their flocks,
the work of
Christmas begins:
to find the
lost,
to heal the
broken,
to feed the
hungry,
to release
the prisoner,
to rebuild
the nations,
to bring
peace among the people,
to make
music in the heart.
