Being there in the resurrection
Easter | John 20:1-18
Mary saw it all. She was there for the teaching. For the healing. And for all of the miracles. I have little doubt she was there for Peter’s declaration that Jesus is the Messiah and when Jesus called him Satan for getting in the way of the gospel.
Mary was there for everything. Including the proclamations from Jesus that he would go to Jerusalem, he would be tried and executed, and on the third day, he would rise.
So then they headed to Jerusalem. And she followed him there. When he rode the colt, when he messed up the temple, when he taught thousands and humiliated the elites who were determined to take him down.
Mary saw it all.
And when Jesus let someone anoint him for burial and share in that last supper, she was there.
Then, of course, stuff starts to get murky. The garden, the trial, the men couldn’t see it all. Was she there for Peter’s threefold denials? Or John’s insistence that he was there? We can’t be sure.
But Mary was there as he walked to Golgotha. For the cross. For the burial. And she was there on the third day, ready to prepare his body for eternal rest.
The Empty Tomb
The irony of the story is that the Romans never thought the women were a threat. But it was the men who cowered in fear and the women who faced the death of Jesus. In part because they were allowed to. And the men were made to fear it.
So it is only the women who could tell the story. The whole story. Of Jesus’s grace and his suffering. Of his hope and love and trust.
And then, even here, at the empty tomb, the men race each other there, with the evangelist insisting he’s better than Peter. Checking out the tomb for themselves and then running off with only half of the information.
Gosh, could Peter and John be any more stereotypical? Guys, you’re making us look bad!
It’s fitting then, that Mary would stay and receive the goodest of the Good News. That Jesus isn’t dead. He was raised. Just like he said.
And yet, even she, who saw it all, heard almost every word along the way, didn’t expect to see the tomb empty. She expected him to stay dead.
I suspect this is the part of the story we’re least likely to think about on Easter. We don’t want to think about it. It’s like the old adage about not wanting to know how the sausage is made.
The tomb is empty! Jesus is risen! Let’s ring those bells!
Jesus called his shot
But we ought not skip over a most telling part of the Easter story. That Jesus told them this would happen. And they didn’t believe him.
And of all people most likely to believe him, it was Mary Magdalene. And even she couldn’t do it. Not really.
Jesus called it. Like the famous Babe Ruth called shot in the 1932 World Series. He said this would happen. All of it.
And when it did, why were all of the disciples, including Mary Magdalene, so unprepared?
Because they didn’t believe it was possible. Even more improbable than Ruth hitting that home run. That had a statistical chance. This? Absolute zero. Not even a 0.0000001% round-down-to-zero chance.
Why didn’t they listen?
Well, why don’t we?
When Jesus says that with God all things are possible? When Jesus says that faith as small as a mustard seed can lift a mountain and throw it into the sea. Where is our faith?
It isn’t just skepticism. Or science. It’s a desire not to. Not to believe. And even the most faithful struggle with it.
John. Peter. Even Mary struggles with it.
And yet…
What happens when they find out they were wrong?
Wrong to not believe?
They put their belief into their new context. And we’ll hear about this in the coming weeks. About the visits from a resurrected Jesus. Visits to people who still want to believe and want to hold onto their unbelief. Saying I need to touch him to believe. I need proof this is real.
This is at the heart of believing, my friends.
We think it has to do with events and facts and science. That it has to do with world views and cultures and relationships. Even attitudes and natures. But it isn’t really all of that alone.
These are things that reinforce our desire to maintain unbelief in the midst of evidence to the contrary!
And here, that famous teaching about faith as small as a mustard seed is handy. Because Jesus expects this of all of us! He expects our unbelief to outweigh our belief. But that even the tiniest speck of faith is enough to terraform the planet, so then we ought to consider what our small faith is capable of!
Mary faces her doubt, her unbelief as she looks in that empty tomb and mourns her rabbi. And then he says her name—and it all goes away. And she can’t wait to tell the others.
This is why Mary is the greatest disciple. And why she is our greatest example of faith. When we go away from here, may we all proclaim that Christ is risen! Alleluia!