Bible Text: Psalm 98, John 20:1-18 | Preacher: Rev. Jenn Geddes | < >
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Devotional:
Well, this is certainly an Easter for the history books. The last month has been one for the history books! Thankfully, there have been a few things that have helped me make the best of a challenging situation. For example, on a particularly lonely feeling day I convinced Mike to go down to the crawlspace and bring up some Christmas lights. Against our strata’s regulations we strung them up in our backyard and the twinkling white lights bring me much joy in the evenings. These little lights brighten these dark times. Or another example, since we have had to postpone our camping season I made a blanket fort in our spare room, it is now where we sleep, hang out and where I curl up to watch the nightly stream from the Met Opera. I have watched classics like Carmen and La Boheme and made my way through all of Wagner’s Ring Series. I have watched more operas in the last three weeks then I had in all my previous years. And I love it. My favourite opera is Mozart’s Die Zauberflotte or The Magic Flute. The premise of that opera is that the Queen of the Night tries convince Prince Tamino to rescue her daughter from Sarastro who is a high priest of the Sun. And in true opera fashion there is the bizarre side story about a bird man name Papageno who is trying to find a wife. Throughout the opera we are led to believe that the Queen of the Night is good and Sarastro is bad until various trials lead the Prince to realize that Sarastro is the good guy. And eventually the light of Sarastro conquers the darkness. There are worst ways to be spending time social distancing then sitting in a fort watching opera. Light conquering darkness, in various forms, is helping me cope with these days – it is that hope that is helping me understand and celebrate this Easter.
John’s Gospel lesson begins with, “Early in the morning on the first day of the week, while it was still dark.” It was so early in the morning when Mary got up to go to the tomb that the sun had not yet risen. I wonder, was she experiencing sleepless nights? The last few days must have been very surreal for Mary. She must have found it hard to believe that the man she had learned from, followed and seen perform miracles- including her own brother rising from the dead- Jesus was actually dead. Going to the tomb was the only way it could really sink in- and so, early in the morning, while it was still dark she goes. Numerous times over the last few weeks I have used the word surreal- this all feels so surreal. Numerous times a week I think, surely this isn’t actually happening and then walk into an empty church and lead a devotional to a camera.
We too come this morning in darkness, even if the sun is shining. We live in a world that is suffering. Each morning I wake to listen to the press releases from various people in government and the situations around the world are grave. Easter isn’t really about girls in bonnets or baskets of chocolate. It is about a hopeless world- a world in darkness- finding light- despite its hopelessness. I’m not trying to replace the usual Easter symbols of butterflies, lilies or even bunnies with something bleak like a dark, grey, early morning- after all it is a good day. But remembering that this story started in darkness helps us appreciate the glory and hallelujahs of Easter within our current situation. I recently heard the observation, “The first Easter didn’t happen at a church. It happened outside of an empty tomb, while all the disciples were sequestered in a home, grief-stricken and wondering what was going on.” So this morning, we are getting a rather authentic Easter experience. The resurrection story starts with darkness which is eventually transformed into belief and rejoicing.
Once Mary discovers that the stone has been removed she runs to Peter and another disciple. They in turn run back to the tomb to see that what Mary has told them is true. The unnamed disciple gets to the tomb first and discovers that the linens are lying there but doesn’t go into the tomb until Peter goes in first. Then the Gospel says something a little funny. It says that the beloved disciple “saw and believed, but did not yet understand”. And then went home. Believed but did not understand what? Believed that Mary was telling the truth? Believed that Jesus had risen but did not understand why? John does not make this clear at all- so really, we are left somewhat in the dark about how Peter and the other disciple felt but some portion of the veil has been lifted.
Mary stands in disbelief and begins to weep. This is now the second time in the Gospel of John that Mary stands at a tomb and weeps. She explains to the two angels that she is weeping because they have taken away her Lord and she doesn’t know where he is. It is in that moment that Jesus approaches her- but she is still in the dark- she still does not recognize him. Believing he is the gardener she asks if he knows where Jesus is. It is in the moment that Jesus calls Mary by name that she recognizes him. Just as when Lazarus came out of the tomb when Jesus called his name so Mary’s darkness is lifted the minute Jesus names her.
This Easter, I don’t really know which person I identify with most in this narrative. Sometimes I feel like we are still at the early morning stage when things feel surreal and are hard to believe. Or sometimes I feel like the disciples, staring into an empty tomb and believing that it is truly empty but not quite understanding why. Why are we experiencing this right now? Sometimes I feel like Mary weeping completely overcome with emotions at our current situation and not recognizing the amazing stories of Jesus at work in our world right now. There are times when it feels like we are surrounded by darkness, that our hopes have disappeared, like we are staring into a void and making irrational conclusions. But then in those moments the light of the risen Christ pierces the darkness and gives me hope. As I said a few weeks ago, Jesus calls us by name. Jesus knows your name. And the light of Christ will overcome this darkness. Hallelujah, Amen.