On the order of the
Roman governor, Pilate, Jesus had been taken down from the cross for
burial. Joseph from Arimethea had
secured the body, wrapped it in a linen cloth, and rolled a stone in front of
the entrance to the tomb and left.
Matthew's gospels records two witnesses to this: Mary Magdalene and
another Mary.
The two Marys keep a
vigil for the man who has changed their lives.
Perhaps they sit in sorrow, grieving that they will never see him again
see him again. Yet their vigil might be
interpreted another way. Could their
presence at the tomb be a sign of expectancy?
Is something about to happen?
The gospel writers had
to deal with the fact that Jesus' inner circle of followers had abandoned
him. The women keeping vigil as mourners
became a bridge for Matthew's gospel--a bridge from Jesus' absence to his
resurrected presence. They became the first witnesses and the first apostles,
being instructed by an angel to take the good news of Jesus' resurrection to
the disciples. They were also a bridge
of reconciliation between a forgiving Christ and the men who had deserted him—whom
he now calls his brothers.
Can you put yourself in
their place? To find yourself being confronted by some rather scary divine
power—in the earthquake and the angel appearing like lightning. We come to church on Sunday morning with
certain expectations for how the service should go, what the music should sound
like, and how compelling the sermon should be.
The two Marys must have
had expectations of how their morning would go.
As they walked towards the tomb, they might have expected to sit quietly
in front of the closed tomb to continue grieving. If they had heard about the Roman guards, they
might have been determined to show their courage in the face of oppression. But
were they expecting the power of God to act in such a scary and dramatic
fashion? Probably not one bit more than
we would expect such a demonstration of divine power as we prepare to receive
Holy Communion!
Matthew's account of how
Christ's resurrection is discovered with an empty tomb and an angelic messenger
makes certain theological points about the mystery of this moment when death
was defeated and Christ's plan to reconnect with the disciples in a
place--Galilee--which points beyond the confines of Jerusalem and first century
Judaism.
Yet the way Matthew
tells this story speaks to the intimacy, which these women felt about their
relationship with Jesus. They may not have
understood what he had taught about his rising after three days, but they were
not giving up on this important relationship.
Knowing Jesus, listening to him teach, seeing the miracles he
wrought--all these things changed them in a way that could not be changed
back. They were not ready to "move
on."
Our relationship with
Jesus through our faith in him could not be just like the Marys, because we
were not his first century companions.
Still they provide an example of loving faithfulness in the context of
great tragedy that we might well emulate.
We have come to know Jesus in a variety of ways--through our mentors in
the faith, through studying scripture, through prayer, and through receiving
the sacrament of Eucharist. Our faith
can be challenged, just as theirs was, by difficult, sad, unfair, perhaps even
horrific circumstances in our lives. Would the day after such a tragedy find us
quietly attentive to what God chooses to reveal to us? The steadfastness of the Marys shows an ideal
of discipleship--patience in waiting on God.
Even with their
steadfastness, this experience had so unsettled them with both fear and joy
that they RAN to tell what they had seen--the absence of the body of Jesus and
a promise that he would reconnect with the disciples. Then an even more amazing moment happened—Jesus
was no longer absent, but he was present! He had come to them to reassure
them. His love for them and theirs for
him caused them to reach out to touch him and to worship him. The intimacy of
their relationship defines what loving God with all your heart truly looks
like.. Perhaps it also shows us what salvation means: patiently waiting for God
to reveal God's self and withholding nothing of yourself, responding with love
and worship.
I believe the reason
most of us came to St. Nicholas' this morning was our hope of encountering the
risen Lord. Using the eyes of our
hearts, let us hold onto this image--this icon even--of the Marys encountering
the risen Christ. Let it inspire us to
steadfastness. Let it inspire us to love
God with all of who we are--not only for today, but for all the days we are
given on this earth.
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