Artwork: “Christ and the Myrrhbearers” by Ivanka Demchuk
This Sunday is Easter Sunday, the celebration of the resurrection. You can find the readings here. The first reading and the gospel reading for the principal Easter service do not change from year-to-year. They are always Acts 10:34-43 and John 20:1-18. You can find my notes on those readings here. The second (epistle) reading does change from year to year. Additionally, an option is provided for an Old Testament reading (Isaiah 25:6-9) as the first and a different gospel account (Mark 16:1-8). Because I have given notes for the primary readings in the past, this year, I have opted to focus on the alternate readings for this year.
Taken together, these three readings proclaim the gravity of the resurrection. Because of Christ’s resurrection, the world has changed. Nothing will ever be the same again. This is indeed wonderful, but also daunting, exhilarating, even scary!
Isaiah’s prophecy (Isaiah 25:6-9) has come true and we will one day see it in fullness. The kingdom has been inaugurated and will be realized. This table and the meal that we taste at communion will be set and served. In Jesus, the shroud of death has been destroyed, and with it the shroud of shame.
Today, we live in a world in which many are without food. I think particularly about those starving in Gaza today, longing for relief. The good news of resurrection is to be proclaimed and lived here, in this real world. This is good news for those, even in our congregations, who sit in shame, grief, and fear. Though we do not yet see it in fullness, something has been done, once-and-for-all about the sickness which plagues our world. And this healing has been brought about by God’s presence with his people. He is the one who throws the meal. And we, partaking in the sacrament, become a sacramental people of healing.
In our epistle reading (1 Corinthians 15:1-11), Paul reminds the Corinthian Christians of the faith which has been proclaimed to them. Christ really died. Christ was buried. And Christ was raised. If there is any doubt that the gospel is good news for real situations, for real bodies, let it be cast aside. For, if the gospel is merely a private spirituality, a nice emotional uplift, it might as well be nothing.
Not only was Christ raised, he then started appearing to people—lots of people: the few people who knew him the best, and also hundreds of people. Paul tells the church that, if they have any doubts, they should go and find those people because some of them are still alive.
None of the first witnesses of resurrection are still alive today, but we are all still witnesses in one way or another. And, in times of doubt and uncertainty, the challenge is still the same: go and find somebody who knows; find somebody who has been there and has seen God.
The resurrected Christ appeared to James, Jesus’ brother and the bishop in the church who was well respected. But, if you don’t believe him because he might be making up a story about his brother, ask Paul himself. He was not biased. He hated Jesus….but…grace!
The earthiness of Paul (and of all of us) was changed by the earthiness of resurrection. When Christ’s self-giving love, as revealed in his death and resurrection, is at the center of our lives, it changes everything.
Our gospel reading (Mark 16:1-8) may be the alternate reading for a reason. Scholars today believe that the longer ending of Mark (vs. 9-20) may not be original to the gospel. If that’s the case, Mark ends right here (putting aside questions about whether he intended to write more). This means that we hear the story of resurrection, the story of the young man messenger telling the women not to be afraid and to go and tell the disciples what has happened. But, then the story ends with this sentence: “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.”
Our gospel reading, ends with resurrection, and with fear. Because of resurrection, the world has changed. Nothing that we have ever known is the same. New creation has broken through the old creation. But, if we’re honest, that is not comforting. That is scary.
These words are a blessing because they show us that Christ’s resurrection does not mean that all of our fears have vanished. We live today on the other side of resurrection, and we still face pain, hardship, doubt and turmoil. This abrupt ending gives us permission to still be in that place today.
Yet, it does not negate the words of the messenger. Do not be afraid. The irony is thick in Mark’s gospel. Throughout the gospel, Jesus keeps telling people to keep his work and identity a secret, and they keep telling people. Here, the messenger tells the women to tell people what has happened, and they are dumbstruck.
The abrupt ending of the gospel is also an invitation. Even in our fear, we are invited to embrace the silence, to sit with the good news of resurrection, to allow it to change us—not as a quick-fix—but to truly upend us.
We know from the other gospels, and from the sheer fact that we have this one, that the women did eventually tell people. They were eventually able to speak, but only after God met them in the stillness.
May we know today the gravity of resurrection. May we hear the good news that the world has changed. This is real good news, for real people, longing for restoration. The Lord is hosting a meal with the best food and wine and everyone is invited to it. May we make our home at that meal as it changes us in such a way that we join in, extending the meal to others. May we hear the good news that we do not need to be afraid, and may we hear it over and over again because we are so often afraid. And may we know the God who sits with us in our silence, and transforms us.