We will rise

Mark 16:1-8

            The good news of Easter from the Gospel of Mark is abrupt and open-ended, which makes it stunningly appropriate for a service like this. It is certainly the least popular story of the resurrection from any of the Gospels, because we don’t get to see Jesus at all. He doesn’t meet the women at the tomb and he doesn’t appear to the disciples on the road. It is abrupt and somewhat disorienting.

            Welcome to 2020, never has there been such a disorienting Easter. If we stop to think about this scene that is set in Mark’s Gospel, it is stunningly appropriate for today. The disciples are hiding in their house, socially distanced from society, afraid that something was going to come and get them too. Mary Magdalene, Mary, the mother of Jesus, and Salome go to the tomb to pay their respects probably because the men-folk were so afraid, but what do they feel when that man in white tells them the good news of Easter morning—that Christ is risen? Fear! The Gospel of Mark says, “They said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.”

            You know what happened in spite of their fear?

            Jesus Christ still rose from the dead.

            You know what happened in spite of disciples who never understand a thing that Jesus said?

            Jesus Christ still rose from the dead!

            You know what happened while the disciples were locked away in their homes?

            You guessed it: Jesus Christ rose from the dead!

            The good news of the resurrection does not wait for us to be in an adequate state of mind to receive it. In fact, resurrection is especially for those locked in their rooms for fear of what may be. Resurrection is for those who go looking to mourn at the tomb and discover that something startlingly new has happened, and all they can feel is fear, because new is frightening. Resurrection is terrifying, because the rules of the game have changed.

            As Christians, we are not expected to live free from fear. Instead, our fear does not define us, because it is not the ultimate reality. Even if the worst should happen, even if we lose everything and everyone we love, Jesus Christ rose from the dead for the sake of the lost and dead. It’s OK to be afraid because life offers no guarantees, but the miracle is this: Through Christ, death does offer us a promise. Still, that’s a bit scary, because we’ve never gone there before! It’s normal to be anxious, because life is worth living and we cling to the moments of sunshine that reveal a world that we feel in our hearts to be good. We cling to life because our loved ones are here, because we cherish those who come after us! We are anxious about what is coming, like the disciples—like Mary Magdalene, Mary, the mother of Jesus, and Salome—because we know how valuable life is, that you can’t put a price on an hour, no matter how much the economists try.

            Easter Sunday puts our math to shame. It does not add up. So it is completely normal to be afraid. But, brothers and sisters, we can’t stay there. Fear is natural and it’s real, but there is something waiting for us that will calm our fears. Together, we will hold one another in those darkest moments. Together, we will proclaim Christ crucified, that God meets us in our despair and holds us with a promise of hope for something more. And then, together, we will proclaim that death is not the end, that disease will be defeated, because its endgame is not the endgame. Death won for a minute, but Easter morning revealed a truth that was more powerful. Death, where is your sting? Because we are a people of resurrection!


            So, we will rise again. In fact, as Martin Luther taught us in confessing our sins, we die and rise daily. So, you need not wait on death in fear. You can confront your fear any minute of the day. You can admit you are afraid, but that fear is not going to have the last word. More than that, you can seek out help. Talk to somebody about your fears, because even the great fear of the disciples drove them to stay in place together. They were afraid, but community can hold your fears. If you are anxious or afraid, seek out somebody today. Don’t wait! Because the resurrection promise doesn’t just appear out of nowhere, it is the preached promise not just of pastors but of counselors and doctors and botanists and kindergarten teachers. Anybody who can look at the world and see that fear does not win can be a preacher of resurrection. It is the promise of all those who wait on bedsides and hold the hands of the dying. It is the promise of psychologists prescribing medication you need. All of it is a foretaste of the resurrection where death no longer has dominion.

            And it’s true that we’re not going to live forever. We’re not going to end all disease. We’re never going to eliminate tragedies—not completely—but every life we save is a testimony to the value of what Christ died for. You matter, and you will rise. Easter morning is the biggest proclamation the world has ever seen that your life matters, because Christ didn’t just die to forgive you, he rose to show you that you will too.

Rise up!

Fear and anxiety are real, but they cannot stand up to Christ in the end.

Rise up!

            Jesus Christ is risen for you and for me. For patients suffering from Covid-19. For family members desperately wanting to be by their side. For all the folks who feel alone or isolated. For all the doctors and nurses and caregivers putting themselves in harm’s way. For all the helpers who are working for the sake of those in need. For all of us. For the whole world.

The world will rise!

In that most famous verse from John’s Gospel—John 3:16—it says, that “God so loved the world that he sent his only Son…” The world. The whole world. Jesus Christ rose for the sake of the world.

So you will too: Rise up!

            In a time where we may feel disconnected, we should remember that today Christ’s body is us. All of us. Many members, one body. And though we cannot be together, nevertheless we are one in Christ. There is no distance that can separate that body. Easter means that our community cannot be broken by anything, not disease, not temporary isolation, not even death, because the body will rise again. This body will rise again. This church, which is now dispersed into homes where half of you are in your PJs and a quarter of you have the kids riding a horse in front of the TV—this church!—will rise again together. The time for fear and anxiety will pass. And never again will we forget what it means to be community.

            We will rise.