Chosen by God

Several years ago I had the great privilege to visit Rome for several days. Of course, I looked forward to seeing the Vatican, to touring the Sistine Chapel and the other Vatican galleries, and even to walking through excavations beneath the current Vatican, to sublayers that dated back to the time of Constantine, and even to a small marble enclosure that was said to contain the remains of the Apostle Peter. I actually got to see the current Pope, Benedict XVI – he was way up in a top floor window in the Vatican complex, looking down at the crowd in St. Peter’s Square – from his window he conducted the Angelus liturgy, and I heard him preach for a brief time and convey greetings in various languages, all amplified by the loudspeakers in St. Peter’s Square.

One other thing I looked forward to doing was – eating. Mangia! I enjoyed wonderful meals at a number of restaurants. Before my trip, friends had informed me that, in Italy, wait staff do not expect tips as they do here in the States. I kept that in mind for most of my visit – and I certainly didn’t object to being able to hang onto a bit more of my ever-dwindling stash of Euros - but at one restaurant I forgot myself and left a generous tip. After leaving the restaurant, I quickly returned to pick up a jacket I’d left behind….and found the manager and wait staff circling the table where I’d sat, my tip still on the table, as they gestured at it and earnestly discussed amongst themselves what to do with it. I wasn’t used to the customs of eating out in Italy, and they were flummoxed by my following the customs of tipping to which I’m accustomed.

Our Gospel reading today portrays the disciples and Mary Magdalene in a state of being flummoxed by God’s resurrection life, perhaps not entirely unlike my Italian wait staff was at my lapse of leaving a tip. Jesus – their rabbi, teacher, mentor, and dear friend – had just been executed in the most gruesome, degrading manner possible in that day. For Rome, crucifixion was not just about killing an individual enemy of the state, but also about terrorizing and intimidating sympathizers. The executed person was in effect turned into a gruesome billboard advertising Rome’s absolute power. Crucified with the words “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews” above his head, the mutilated body of Christ was turned into a hideous public service announcement of sorts – “set yourself up as a rival to all-powerful Caesar, and you’ll end up on a cross just like this one.” The lifeless body of Jesus had been claimed by Joseph of Arimethea and laid in a tomb, and a large stone rolled in front, to keep away grave robbers and wild animals that might move or attack the body.

Mark’s version (Mark 16:1-8) of the Easter story reads as follows – it’s quite short: "When the sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint him. And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. They had been saying to one another, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?” When they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back. As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed. But he said to them, “Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.” So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid. John’s Gospel (John 20:1-18) says that Mary Magdalene - Mark includes Mary the mother of James and Salome – go to the tomb early Sunday morning. Mark’s gospel says that the women came to bring spices to anoint the body, and were concerned that they might not be able to move the large stone. So far, all is going according to their customs for burial.

But now, from their point of view, the story goes off the rails. The women find themselves flummoxed, without a frame of reference for what happens next. The come to the tomb and find the stone rolled away, the tomb empty. Not unlike the waiters at whom I inadvertently threw a curve ball with my tip, the women don’t know what to do with an empty tomb. God had thrown them a curve ball. Mark’s Gospel has a young man in a white cloth – no doubt an angel – telling the women that Jesus has been raised, and to tell the disciples to meet Jesus in Galilee. According to Bible scholars, the earliest texts of Mark’s gospel end with the women fleeing in terror from their encounter with the angel in the empty tomb; any verses in Mark 16 that follow verse 8 are thought to be additions by later writers that attempted to bring the sense of closure that Mark’s original open ending lacks. John’s Gospel – written later - gives us more of a sense of completion – Mary calls Peter and the beloved disciple – traditionally thought to be the writer of John’s Gospel – who see the empty tomb…and go home. They weren’t sure what to do with God’s resurrection grace either. Mary lingers at the tomb, and encounters two angels and the Risen Christ himself, who tells her to tell the disciples of Jesus’ resurrection.

What do you do with an empty tomb? From our perspective, with the resurrection story so embedded in our culture – we know that Easter Sunday follows Good Friday as predictably as the sun rising in the East and setting in the West - it may be hard to imagine the absolute shock and terror and bafflement of that first Easter morning. Eventually all that will be transformed into the awe and wonder and adoration that has been passed down through the centuries to us, but I think we lose some of the impact of the story if we experience Easter Sunday as an uplifting but utterly predictable day on the liturgical calendar – complete with stained glass windows and lilies and organ music – and are made numb to the absolute unpredictability – the absolutely lost-for-words, no frame of reference experience - of God’s resurrection power in the lives of those first disciples.

I suspect we all go through experiences like those of the disciples. Tragic events, or perhaps our own sinful choices bring us to a place in which hope within us has died. We feel boxed in by our past. Our circumstances, or perhaps our past sin, loom before us like an immovable boulder. We feel trapped by the past inside a dark, airless tomb, shut out from the light of God’s love, from any hope of change for the better. Our expectations for the future are dismally low. At most, we hope that perhaps someone – a family member, a friend, a counselor, a therapist - can come to help us hang on a bit longer – so that our circumstances won’t get even worse - somewhat like the women coming with their spices for Jesus' lifeless body….the spices could offer only preservation, not resurrection.

The women came and found that God had rolled away the stone. God through Christ also rolls away the stones that stand between us and the resurrection life Christ offers. Christ calls each of us by name – Lazarus, come forth!….calls every man, woman and child by name out of our tombs of sin and loss and despair and hopelessness into the bright sunlight of God’s resurrection life, in which we walk in the sun to whatever tomorrows God grants us.In John’s version of the Easter story Mary stood outside the tomb, weeping. Mary’s tears blind her from recognizing the risen Jesus even when he’s talking to her – she thought he was the gardener. It was when Jesus called her by name – Mary – that she realizes who she’s talking to. She wants to hang onto the moment – who wouldn’t – but Jesus says, “Don’t hold onto me…go to my brothers and say to them, “I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.”

Christ calls us by name out of our tombs of despair into the bright sunlight of the garden, but we’re not allowed to hang around for long. We’re called forth, not to linger in the garden, but to go to our brothers and sisters to witness to what we’ve experienced. In Peter’s words, we’re “chosen by God as witnesses…commanded to testify that Christ is the one ordained by God as judge of the living and the dead, that everyone who believes in him will receive forgiveness of sins through his name.” So in gratitude let us be up and doing. May each of us be able to say, with the Apostle Paul, “By the grace of God, we are what we are, and God’s grace toward us has not been in vain.”