- Sermon - Mickey Anders

Text: John 20:1-18

Perhaps it was a morning just like this morning.

No alarm was required to awaken Mary Magdalene even though she had been up late weeping over the loss of Jesus. She had witnessed a terrible, horrible holocaust type of event. She had witnessed something totally shocking and unexpected. She was emotionally drained, but still did not sleep well.

She slipped silently out of her house and made her way through the quiet streets of Jerusalem. Nobody was about this early, except an occasional rummaging through the garbage.

As she made her way out to the edge of the city, all of nature began to come alive. She was surprised that the simple creatures continued their routines as if nothing had happened. She heard the thrushes fluttering from thicket to thicket. She heard the early chirping of the sparrows and a rooster crowing at the breaking light on the horizon.

But for the most part, it was a still quiet morning with only the sounds of sandals shuffling in the thick dust of the road.

Her friends were waiting for her at the appointed corner. Without a word they turned their faces toward the light on the horizon and made their way past the hill called Golgotha. As they remembered the events of Friday, a cold shiver went up their spines and tears welled up in their eyes once again. But the women did not talk. There was nothing left to say.

They were compelled to come, not by external compulsion but by an inner one. They were women. It was a woman's job to care for the dying and the dead. They had brought spices to anoint the body.

In the early light, Mary found the place. She took a deep breath as she rounded the last turn and prepared herself mentally to do what she had to do. That was when she saw that the tomb had been disturbed.

Her hand quickly covered her mouth as she gasped in shock, her mind raced at this unexpected scene and quickly concluded that the enemies of Jesus would not even let him rest in peace in the tomb. Someone had stolen the body.

When the realization settled in her mind, she acted on her first impulse. She started running and the other women followed. They ran full out to tell the disciples, to tell anybody, somebody - that the unthinkable was even worse than it was before. Somebody had stolen his body!

By now the streets were beginning to fill with children and people starting their daily chores. Curious stares followed the women as they ran, crying and pulling loose garments to their eyes to wipe away the tears. On Friday, she thought she had cried every tear from her head and that she would never have another tear, but now the tears flowed like a fresh river in a spring rain.

In near exhaustion, they found the place where the disciples were still sleeping. Mary banged on the door and rushed in, and between her gasps she shouted, "They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him."

Peter, wiping the sleep from his eyes, could not comprehend what the women were saying. With a foggy, sleepy brain, it took him several repetitions before the full realization of the meaning of the women's shouts came through to him. But then he was infuriated and sprang into immediate action.

He burst through the door, not stopping to grab his outer garment. And John was on his heels. The others who were sleeping there were still so depressed from the crucifixion that they could not even muster the energy to move. They just didn't care anymore.

Peter was the older of the two. He was a fisherman, not much into running. Standing in boats and hauling up nets day in and day out builds tremendous chest and arm muscles, but the legs don't get much exercise. So I imagine Peter a huge bulk of a man standing on spindly little legs, and when he ran his gate was an awkward lurking rather than a smooth run.

But John was much younger and his legs were strong. His gait was smooth and fast and he arrived at the tomb long before Peter. Nervously, he stood around outside waiting. He looked around, but at first he didn't have the courage to peek inside.

He examined the large stone that had been rolled aside. Obviously the women had not been strong enough to roll such a large stone aside. But there was no evidence of tampering.

He heard his heart pounding in his ears from the long run. He felt the sweat running down his brow and wiped it away. He sniffed the air expecting to get a whiff of the dead, but the only smell was that of spring flowers.

Finally, he got his nerve up and peeked inside without entering. Through the morning light shining through the opening he could see linen wrappings lying there, but no body. The women were right!

At that moment, Simon Peter arrived on the scene. He never hesitated a moment, but burst right past John into the tomb.

As soon as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he noticed that indeed the body was gone. But there were the linen wrappings still lying there. "Strange," he must have thought. "If they stole his body, why did they unwrap it first."

In his minds eye, he remembered the day that Jesus had called Lazarus from the grave. He remembered the shiver that went up his spine and the hush that spread over the crowd when they first saw a movement at the dark edges of the cave. And then the crowd had gasped as the mummified body of Lazarus came stumbling forth into the sunlight. All of his grave cloths were still wrapped about him. At the command of Jesus, he had simply sat up from the dead and walked out.

But somehow Jesus was gone and the grave cloths left behind. Perhaps they were lying there in spirals as if the body had disappeared from within the wrappings. Perhaps Jesus body had passed through the grave cloths just as he would later walk through an unopened door.

But Peter noticed that the head napkin was laid apart, separate from the rest of the primitive burial suit. Before departing from the tomb, Jesus had evidently rolled it up and placed it by itself.

Since Peter had entered the tomb, John followed. He stood behind trying to take in not only what he saw, but the meaning of what he saw. This did not look like a grave robbing to John. He was young enough, smart enough, and devout enough to believe that something wonderful had happened here. He didn't quite understand what it was, but he believed. He wasn't sure what he believed, but he did believe that something good had happened here.

After a long while of lingering and looking and hushed whispers, the disciples concluded there was nothing left to do. So they returned to their homes.

But not Mary. She couldn't bring herself to leave this place. His body had been here, at this very spot. So in an unconscious effort to be as close to Him as possible, she lingered near the tomb.

She was still absolutely convinced that somebody had stolen the body. No other explanation even entered her thinking. She could have as easily considered the possibility of a man flying to the moon as to consider the possibility that Jesus was alive.

Her tears continued to flow. By now her, garments were wet with her tears. Once more she bent over to look into the tomb. She wanted to look once more just to convince herself that He was not there.

But this time she saw someone there -- two people, all dressed in white. She had not seen them enter the tomb, but then she had been crying so hard and talking with Peter and John, and must have missed their entrance. She didn't know what they were doing there, and didn't much care.

She was still crying so hard that she didn't look very closely at the strangers. She was in no mood to strike up a conversation. Rather with a deep sigh, she leaned heavily against the entrance and held her face in her hands, and wept some more.

The strangers said to her, "Woman, why are you weeping?"

She didn't want them to talk to her. She was in no mood for anybody to talk to her. "What a question," she thought. "Can't they see that I am a friend of this one who died so tragically." Most folks don't have to ask why there are tears at a funeral.

Mary didn't trust these strangers. Perhaps they were involved in the crime. They might be the very ones who stole the body. So with a tone of anger, she spun on her heels and spoke over her shoulder as she walked out, "They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him."

As she left the tomb, she noticed the gardener standing there. She thought, "What are all these people doing here all of a sudden?"

Still not ready to talk because of her tears, she ducked her head beneath her hood and started home. But the stranger spoke to her anyway saying, "Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?" That's twice she has been asked this question in less than a minute. What's going on here? Her suspicions solidified into a conclusion that these must be the very people who had stolen the body of Jesus, and now they were tormenting her with questions. She was afraid of them all. What kind of people does it take to steal from the grave? And now she was alone out here with them.

She was too afraid to turn or even look at this strange man. With a mixture of profound grief and anger spilling over her grief, she snapped, "Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away."

Her body was wracked with fear. She felt like she had a giant ball in her stomach. She stood there shaking and trembling and crying, afraid to even look at this thief who may be ready to kill her.

The gardener was silent for a long time, but then he said one word, "Mary."

At first she wondered how this stranger knew her name, but then her mind slowly allowed itself to register the sound of that voice. It was familiar, so familiar. What a cruel joke! This man's voice sounded just like His!

That's when she turned for the first time, lifted the edge of her hood and looked at the man. Her eyes slowly widened as a war took place in her mind. It's Him! He's dead. It's him. It can't be him. It's him. It can't be. IT IS!!!

An involuntary shriek escaped her mouth, it was her favorite affectionate term for Jesus - "Rabboni!!" She ran to him and fell on his feet, grasping his legs firmly in her arms. The tears still fell from her face dripping on his sandals, but now she was laughing and joy came crashing through the grief in her heart.

Jesus tried to console her and to calm her down, but she clung all the harder to his legs. "Do not hold on to me," he said. He knew she would never want to let go of him again, but he must convince her to let go. "Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father."

It must have been the hardest thing she ever did to let go of his legs, but finally she did as he requested. And when she had calmed down just a bit, he said, "Go to my brothers and say to them, 'I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.'"

Finally, Jesus' words sunk in to her. "Yes," she thought. "Yes, I need to tell the others!" In a reluctant obedience, she walked from this scene of wonder. Every step she looked back to cast her eyes on Jesus again, to remind herself that it was true. He was alive!

When finally she was out of eye-sight, she began to run. And the excitement welled up within her. She ran like the wind.

And for the second time, the children in the streets saw this strange woman running past them. The last time she was crying and wiping her eyes, but now she was laughing and obviously happy. The children looked at each other in curiosity and shrugged their shoulders at the strange behavior of this poor woman.

Again Mary banged on the door where the disciples were staying. Again she rushed right in. The disciples could tell immediately that something was up. Instead of the tears and anxiety of her first report, now her eyebrows were lifted, her face was filled with light, and with joy and wonder in her voice she said, "I have seen the Lord."

The first witness to the Resurrection were those five words, "I have seen the Lord."

Over the next few days, the disciples came to believe these simple words of Mary. And these words made all the difference.

The whole life of this one who had gone through the land healing, helping, forgiving, and bestowing new beginnings, now became transparent to them. Suddenly they realized they had not really known him at all. Oh, their hearts had burned within them every time they were with him, and they had felt that they were walking in the shadow of a mighty figure; but not until now did they discover who it was that walked with them there.

Now they began to understand his puzzling words and actions. On that first Easter morning, they finally believed that the one they thought was the greatest among men was in fact the Son of God who had come from eternity and shared for a little while their life on earth, and now He was risen from the dead.

Today we are called to join with Mary in experiencing the wonder of his Resurrection. As we leave this place, may we also speak those five words that changed everything:

"I have seen the Lord."