April 16, 2006

Dead End or New Life?

Exodus 14:10-14, 21-25, 28-30a
Colossians 3:1-11
John 20:1-18

Easter is the most wonderful good news we can possibly hear! It announces not some "pie-in-the-sky" false hopes, but the truth, the assurance that Jesus Christ is risen today. For those of us who believe, this is good news indeed! But what about those among us who have a hard time believing, or who are skeptical, or who have been so bruised by life that we have little hope of anything but more of the same? What about those of us who feel we've reached a "dead end" in our lives? What about those of us who may be thinking, "This Easter business is okay for others, but I don't need it. What kind of good news can it possibly be for me and my life?" (i) Hang in there for a few minutes this morning; God's word is for all of us.

We begin to hear that word by listening closely to a very familiar story, yet one that speaks to us anew each time we hear it. The events of Palm Sunday were happy and jubilant, but the balance of Holy Week went steadily downward, culminating in the terrible, agonizing crucifixion. The mood is somber, gloomy, and dark at the beginning of that first Easter morning, as Mary Magdalene trudges along the garden path, her footsteps heavy with weariness and disillusionment. She feels like she is at the dead end of her hopes and dreams. She'd put all her faith and trust in Jesus, and now he's gone, dead and gone forever. Mary has come to the garden tomb to mourn, to shed some tears, to grieve in solitude. But when she arrives at the garden, much to her surprise and horror, she discovers that the large stone, that had been sealed shut against the opening of the tomb, has been rolled aside.

Can you imagine the thoughts rushing through Mary's mind? "Someone has taken my Lord out of his tomb! How could they do such a thing! Who would do such a thing ... the Roman soldiers? ... the religious authorities? ... grave robbers?" Also surging through her mind perhaps is a fleeting fear - fear of what might happen next in this grisly episode; fear of the unknown; fear for her own safety or perhaps the safety of the other disciples.

How can you and I relate to all of this? Have you ever felt "on top of the world" one day, and down in the pits the next? - the pits of despair, disappointment, discouragement, depression, or defeat? Have you ever felt like you were at a "dead end?" - perhaps in a relationship, or in a job, or in your faith? What "dead end" paths have you or I gone trudging down? What fears have we experienced? - fear of the unknown? fear of failure? fear of rejection? fear of failing health? or of losing a loved one? fear of our own death? Has that fear ever immobilized you or prevented you from taking any action?

Fortunately, Mary is not immobilized by her fears - she quickly runs to tell the others. Peter and John, the other disciple, "the one whom Jesus loved," respond to Mary's disturbing news by racing to the tomb. When they arrive, John kneels down and peers in, but Peter with typical impulsiveness, not only looks in but goes into the tomb. He sees the linen cloths used to wrap Jesus' body lying neatly there, and also the head covering, rolled up to the side. The grave-cloths are not disheveled or disarranged, but are lying there as if the body of Jesus had simply evaporated out of them. If grave-robbers had stolen the body, they wouldn't have left everything so neatly in place. The disciples are clearly dealing with something much more significant than corpse-snatching. (ii) At this point John also enters the tomb, sees the evidence, realizes what has happened, and believes. Believes what? I'm not sure. But with their heads filled with wonder, they both leave for home.

But Mary remains behind at the tomb, weeping. Perplexed by the missing body, she still feels the need to mourn. And then she sees the two angels. If she's afraid, she doesn't show it. "Woman, why are you weeping?" they ask her. "They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him." Then turning, through her tear-filled eyes she sees someone she thinks is the gardener. Surely he will know what's going on. But before she can get a word out, he also asks, "Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?" "The nerve!" she thinks. "Is he trying to humiliate me? He knows who I'm looking for!" "Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away." But Mary is not prepared for what happens next. The figure speaks her name, "Mary" - and instantly she recognizes him as the Master. It is just as Jesus had earlier said: "The sheep hear [the shepherd's] voice, and he calls his own sheep by name."

Mary bows before her Lord, in humble adoration. She may not fully understand what is happening, but she is no longer at that horrible dead end. Here before her is Jesus himself, alive. Just days before he had been on the cross, racked with pain, gasping for breath, and then dying. After he had breathed his last, others laid him in the cold, dark tomb. But here he is now, alive, greeting her by name! "Jesus [had] backed all the way down into the terrifying dead end of death, and had come out the other side, alive." (iii) No wonder Mary reaches for him adoringly. But Jesus gently admonishes her (in so many words): "Do not spend too long in holding on to me, Mary, for soon I must go back to God. But go now and tell the good news to the rest of my disciples." And so she obeys, and goes to the disciples with these incredible words: "I have seen the Lord."

How are you and I like the disciples in this story? Maybe some of us are like John, a bit afraid, a bit cautious, a bit reluctant to do more than poke our heads into situations we're unsure of. But then, when we have all the facts, then maybe we'll commit ourselves. Others of us perhaps are more like Peter - impulsive, quick to respond, jumping into things without thinking about the consequences as carefully as we might. I wonder how many of us are like Mary - faithful, steadfast, and courageous - even in the face of disappointment, despair, fear, and confusion? How many of us hear the voice of Jesus when he calls us by name? If we hear, how many of us respond in adoration? If we respond, how many of us witness our faith to others? Who are you? a John? a Peter? a Mary?

For the people of Israel and even for modern Jews today, the Red Sea crossing is the high point in their history, the most important redeeming and revealing act of God. What we heard from Exodus today is a redemption story, a miraculous account of liberation from death. Before it happened the people were afraid, as was Mary Magdalene at first. They also felt that they were at a dead end - and they literally were, with the Red Sea in front of them and the Egyptians behind them. They had their backs up against a wall; they were, as we say, between a rock and a hard place. But Moses raised his hand and the waters stood so high, that what had been a wall became a pathway through the dead end that now was a way of escape to a new life. Later Miriam, Moses' sister, sang a victory song: "The Lord has triumphed gloriously, throwing the horse and riders of death into the sea of their death." (iv)

Have you ever had your back up against a wall? Have you ever felt like you were between a rock and a hard place? - hopes dashed? at a dead end? Some miracle - no, not even that, just some success, some happiness, some contentment was all you asked? Up against a dead end of what? - physical exhaustion? failure? loneliness? life itself? - that seems at times like the worst, most horrible, unrelenting dead end? (v) If you have ever felt like this, if you are silently responding: "Yes, that's me. I've felt that way; I've gone down that path; I've experienced that fear; I've been up against a dead end" - then God has a word for you, and it's found at the conclusion of the Exodus and Easter stories.

The Lord has triumphed gloriously, death has been overcome - not only the death at the end of life, but all along the way, the lesser deaths, the "dead ends," that occur throughout life. We are able to get through life's deepest tragedies, if, in faith, we can accept the strength and grace given to us by God in Christ. The Lord does indeed walk with us "through the valley of the shadow of death." The Lord does indeed strengthen and empower us for all the difficult journeys we must travel. The Lord does indeed comfort and sustain us no matter what happens, no matter how far into the pit we may fall, no matter what.

The evangelical Christian author, Corrie ten Boom once said: "There is no pit so deep that Jesus is not deeper still." (vi) And the great French author Victor Hugo put it this way: "When I go down to the grave, I can say like many others, 'I have finished my day's work.' But I cannot say, 'I have finished my life.' My [life] will begin again the next morning. The tomb is not a blind alley; it is a thoroughfare. It closes on the twilight. It opens on the dawn." (vii)

In the resurrection of our Lord, Jesus backed all the way down into the tomb, all the way down into the terrifying dead end of death, and came out the other side, alive - putting an end to death, not only for himself, but for all who believe. Christ's victory over death assures us that nothing, absolutely nothing can ever separate us from Christ or from his love and constant companionship, throughout life now and beyond life. God in Christ has turned the dead end of death into the end of death itself.

As World War II was winding down, a group of Jews who had escaped death in the gas chambers took refuge in a cemetery, finally taking up residence there. One evening a baby was born in one of the open graves, and the old grave-digger, a strict Orthodox Jew, assisted in the birth. When the infant uttered its first cry, the old grave-digger exclaimed: "Great God! Have you finally sent the Messiah to us? For who else other that the Messiah would be born in a grave?" Born in a grave! That's the surprise of Easter! Our unending, eternal life in Jesus our Messiah, came out of a grave. We are called to leap for joy. We are called to celebrate God's victory and we are challenged to live life fully - but it all began in a grave. (viii)

I saw a beautiful Easter card once that says it all. Usually such cards have phrases like "Happy Easter!" or "Christ has risen!" or "He lives!" But this card simply showed a picture of a butterfly, the symbol of new life in Christ, and inside there were just two words on the card: "We live!" Because of the Exodus, but most especially because of Easter, we live, Christ lives in us and is with us wherever we are. And because Christ lives, we are now enabled by God's grace to live, and to know in the deepest sense the fullness, the joy, and the contentment of life that only our Lord gives us, today and forever more. This is what Easter really means! (ix)

And so I say to you, "Happy Easter" - not in the superficial way we usually use that greeting, but in the deeper sense. Happy "New Life" in Christ our Savior, who is risen indeed! Alleluia! Amen.

The Pilgrim Church of Duxbury
Rev. Kenneth C. Landall

i The Clergy Journal, 3/84, p. 22.
ii John Killinger, John, p. 145.
iii Janet M. Edwards, Word & Witness, 4/22/84.
iv Ibid.
v Ibid.
vi quoted in Windows to the Truth, 4/5/84, p. 6.
vii quoted in Word & Witness, 4/15/79.
viii Emphasis, 4/90, p. 21.
ix The Clergy Journal, op. cit.