Sunrise Service Easter 2017

Easter, April 16, 2017, Sunrise John 20

In 1650, Thomas Fuller, English theologian and historian said in his travelogue A Pisgah-Sight of Palestine and the confines thereof “It is always darkest just before the day dawneth.” People have debated for hundreds of years whether this is a fact or just a thoughtful notation. But there is no debating that this phrase has captured the human imagination.

There is an element of truth within it that speaks to us on deep levels. We’ve experienced the darkness and we know it can seem the most overwhelming just before the light breaks through.

Mary began her journey in this passage surrounded by the darkness. While it was still dark, John tells us, Mary made her way to the tomb where Jesus’ body had been placed. The darkness she walks through may indeed be the darkest time of her soul.

She is going to the grave of a man who gave her everything. Jesus had healed her from seven demons. Jesus had given her a spot among the faithful followers, roaming the countryside, sitting at his feet, soaking up the joy of his presence.

What will happen to her now? What will become of the life she has been shown? How will she ever be able to move past the darkness?

I think this is when Mary is the most relatable to me on a personal level. I’ve battled with depression throughout my life. There have been times when the darkness seemed impenetrable. Times when I could not imagine ever seeing sunshine again.

I, like most of us here today, have felt the pain of losing a loved one to death. We understand how it feels to go to the graveside, in the darkness of our grief and sit and wait, gathering that darkness like a blanket around our shoulders.

In her grief, in the dark, Mary went to the final resting place of Jesus, and when she arrived she saw that he was not there.

He was not there. Jesus’ body was gone. I wonder if she took a quick step back and counted the graves, just to make sure she was at the right place.

This past January, I returned to New Mexico for my Aunt Joyce’s funeral and while we were there the family decided to visit my grandparents grave site as well. Only, we couldn’t find it.

I’m sure it looked odd to see close to sixty people walking around that small cemetery looking for a headstone. Each of us remembered that the grave was on the West side, with the name facing the road, one row in from the edge. But it wasn’t there.

Finally, someone spotted it, two rows in, with the name facing a different direction. The confusion was caused by an extra row of bodies being added since their passing in 1983 and 1997 respectively. But no one can account for the stone being turned.

This confusion cannot begin to compare to Mary’s. Jesus is not misplaced. She has not miscounted tombs. He is simply no longer there.

In her angst, while it is still dark, she ran back to tell the disciples. Peter and John, the beloved disciple, return to the tomb with Mary. They ran to the tomb and find it empty, just as Mary had said. They entered the tomb, found it empty and believed. Believed what exactly? I think they believed Mary. They believed that Jesus’ body had been taken. They believed the darkness. The next verse says, “for yet, they did not understand the scripture, that he must be raised from the dead.”

Peter and John return home, still in the dark, still unaware of what this might mean. Still bound to and by the darkness.

Mary could not leave the place she last saw Jesus. She began to weep outside of the tomb. She cried tears of frustration, of loss, of fear, of love. It was bad enough to have Jesus die, but to not know where he body was? To not have a concrete place to take her thoughts and memories? This was like losing him all over again!

She looked into the tomb and saw two messengers, angles, dressed in white, one at the foot and one at the head. And in her darkness, she didn’t even seem shocked or surprised. She asked to know where Jesus’s body had been taken.

She turned around from the tomb and bumped into a man. And supposing him to be the gardener she asked, “If you have carried him away please tell me where you have laid him and I will take him away.”

In the darkness, she could not recognize who was speaking with her. In the darkness, her grief kept her blind. In the darkness, she was bound to earthly understanding.

In the darkness, we too sometimes do not recognize the voice of Jesus. In the darkness, we too allow grief and loss to keep us blind to truth. In the darkness, we are bound to earthly understanding.

“Mary” With a word the sun began to shine. With a word, the scales fell from her eyes. With a word the creator of the universe reminded Mary of who she was, and whose she was.

“Teacher.” She responds. In that moment, the sun shined out. In that moment, Mary not only identifies Jesus, she also identifies herself; for what good is a teacher without a disciple?

“Do not cling to me,” Jesus told her. Don’t cling to the old way of understanding. Don’t let the darkness, the past, hold you captive any longer. You are free of all that darkness now!

This is the message for us as well my friends. As the sun dawns brightly in our lives, let us set aside the darkness that clings so tightly. Let us be unbound, set free.

And when we have been unbound, when we have faced the dawn, let us go and boldly proclaim “We have seen the Lord!” Alleluia! He is Risen! He is Risen indeed!

Easter Sunrise Sermon

April 5, 2015

Mark 16:1-8

Mark’s Gospel is usually my favorite gospel. I like the way that Mark paints the picture clearly, without too much fuss, and leaves the reader to draw a lot of their own connections.

That being said, with this the last chapter of Mark, I wish the author had been a bit more wordy.

Darkness has again fallen on the followers of Jesus. They have suffered through the betrayal and trial and death of Jesus only to gather together for the least celebratory Sabbath they had ever experienced. They grieved, they mourned, and they cried, wailed and feared. What will happen to us now? Who will we follow? How can we go on living?

At some point during the observation of Sabbath three women gathered together and formed a plan, a plan to honor their Lord as he should have been honored.

It is immediately after the Sabbath, which would be Saturday night, that these three women, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome went out to the market place to buy spices for the anointing of Christ’s body. Things had happened in such a rush that the customs had not been followed. Jesus’ body had not be properly cared for and they wanted to remedy that as soon as possible.

As the dawn breaks they approach the tomb wondering who they will get to roll away the stone. With all of their prepping and planning they had not thought about this particular need. Perhaps they could find someone willing nearby. Perhaps the three of them working together could shift its weight. Perhaps one of them should go back to get one or two of the men to help.

As they looked up from their discussion they see that the stone has been moved already. They say nothing to each other but instead rush into the open tomb, no doubt to make sure that the body of their lord had not been disturbed. But what they saw their disturbed them quite a bit!

Inside they saw a young man, according to Mark, dressed in white. They are more than a little upset; in fact they are alarmed or shocked. Of course, you would be too, wouldn’t you?

This young man tells them not to fear, that Christ has risen and will meet his brothers in Galilee. He tells them to spread the good news to Peter and the disciples.

And filled with terror and amazement they flee from the tomb. They flee from the tomb and tell no one what they have seen.

This is how the oldest copies of Mark that we have end, with frightened women running away. They were scared that someone might have taken Christ’s body, perhaps even the young man they met at the tomb. But perhaps they were even more afraid that no one had taken him, that he had indeed risen. What would that mean?

And it makes me wonder, how often do we turn away now from the possibility of resurrection? How often do I let my fear keep me silent?

When a loved one is facing the darkness of depression, sure that the path they are on leads only to destruction, do we run in fear, or do we dare speak words of resurrection?

When we hear the words cancer, terminal, untreatable, do we turn in fear, or do we dare to speak words of resurrection?

When we hear of vicious murders of 147 people at Kenyan University do we shake our heads in disbelief, or do we dare speak words of resurrection?

When we learn about the hundreds of women and girls who are victims of sex trafficking on own very own Highway 20 and Highway 72 do we sign at the unfairness, or do we dare to speak words of resurrection?

When we look into the dark places, do we pull our purses tight and lock our doors, or do we dare to speak words of resurrection?

The king of glory came in the form of a man, and all the dark places, all of the Hades all of our personal hells were lighted up! There is no darkness we can know that Jesus has not already known. Death had no gate strong enough to keep him in and darkness was powerless at the coming of the light!

Darkness is powerless over the light of Christ! Speak words of resurrection into the darkest of nights, knowing that you cannot be anywhere Christ is not waiting on you to arrive.

Do not turn in fear from the challenges of resurrection friends; speak the words of truth, the words of resurrection into every dark place, knowing that his light wins, every time.

Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!