Sunday, March 27, 2016

Saying nothing in the face of resurrection

Mark 16:1-8

            On Thursday of this week, as we recalled the Last Supper and the Garden of Gethsemane, I focused my message on Jesus praying for God to remove this cup of suffering from his lips, “Yet, not what I want, but what you want.” Then on Friday, as we meditated on the crucifixion, Jesus’ death at the hands of all of us, I focused my message on Jesus’ final words on the cross, quoting Psalm 22, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Well, today I am going to focus on Jesus’ words following the resurrection, which, according to the Gospel of Mark are:
Nothing, actually.
            In Mark’s Gospel not only do we not see Jesus raised from the dead; we also have this unexpected, Christopher Nolan-esque finale, where the disciples have the following reaction to the resurrection: Chapter 16, verse 8, “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.”
            End of Gospel.
            It’s like that spinning top at the end of Inception where the scene cuts out just as we are about to find out if he is dreaming or not, leaving us all asking, “Wait, what the heck did I just see?” That’s what happens on Easter morning according to the Gospel of Mark, and that, again according to Mark, is the end of the story. A giant cliffhanger.
            For those of you who haven’t been with us since Christmas, and for those who maybe haven’t been paying too close of attention as we’ve read through Mark’s Gospel each Sunday, there is a repeated theme in the Gospel of Mark, which is Jesus telling his disciples to be quiet and not to tell anybody about him. No matter how often he heals people, even when he raises Lazarus from the dead, even when he does things that are impossible for human beings, he orders them clearly: Do not say anything to anybody.
            And he does this in order that they might wait on the big miracle that’s coming. Everything is directed to the cross. Every little bit of the action is heading toward the cross and the empty tomb. But, if you know a little of the story, you probably know that the disciples never listen to Jesus when he tells them to be quiet. They are always disobeying his orders and telling everybody about what he has done. And it’s the same with all the people that Jesus heals. He sternly orders them: Don’t say anything to anybody! And what do they do? They go off telling the world what Jesus has done! Of course. Who wouldn’t share about the man who cured them of incurable disease? Today you’d make a movie about it and people would go see it because they love this healing stuff. They know someone, or they themselves have been faced with a disease, and they need to know they have a healing God. I get it. Jesus did, too, and yet he told them again and again: Do not say anything to anybody. And they never listened.
            The side effect of their misbehaving by telling the world about the healing-Jesus shows itself today as we reach the end of the story, because the greatest miracle the world has ever known has come to pass. Jesus Christ was dead, crucified by Romans and Jews and by you and by me, because we are sinners who have fallen short of God’s glory, and so we do what we always do with good things: We kill them. That’s what happened on Good Friday. That’s what was set in motion on Maundy Thursday, stretching back much before that all the way back to the Garden of Eden, when you and I in the persons of Adam and Eve decided we know better than God. All of this set the stage for Easter morning; this is no secret! Jesus told the disciples it would happen! He told everyone who would listen and even those who wouldn’t. He said the Son of Man would be betrayed into the hands of sinners, he would be killed, and three days later he would rise again. It doesn’t get much clearer than that.
            But nobody actually believed him! And the proof that nobody believed was what happened on Easter morning when they discovered that the tomb was empty, because for the first time in their lives of following Jesus the disciples shut their mouths. The one time they were expected to go and share the good news and they shut up! They failed the only time that Jesus was preparing them for, because the empty tomb is the one moment that matters. This is the central, pivotal moment of the Christian faith; in fact, it’s the most important moment in history; it’s the thing that Jesus has been grooming the disciples for from the first time he called them from their boats and their tax jobs and told them to leave behind their families and to come and follow him. This moment! This is what we’ve been waiting for, and when it comes to be just as he described it the disciples respond by utterly failing.
            “They said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.”
            They had spent so much time telling the world about little miracles that they were too astounded and afraid to speak up when the big miracle happened. They liked the prospect of being healed so much that they didn’t imagine that maybe there was something better—that maybe healing was just a foretaste of resurrection. Their expectations were too small. And so are ours.
            Easter shatters expectations, but like the disciples I’m not sure how often we get it. You can’t be a resurrection-witness then go out from here and complain that Easter service was ten minutes too long. You can’t be a resurrection-witness then gossip about the way that people act on Easter morning or that so-and-so hasn’t been here since last Christmas. You can’t be a resurrection-witness and worry about getting home to watch the Elite 8. You can’t be a resurrection-witness and decide that sometimes your Christian faith isn’t particularly convenient. You can’t be a resurrection-witness and live the same as you were before. The empty tomb changes everything, and the disciples were not ready for it, and neither are we.
            So here’s the good news, and the really good news is that we get a whole lot of good news on Easter morning:. Jesus Christ died for you, and rose for you, because you are going to be terrible resurrection-witnesses, just as the disciples were. You are going to talk a lot about the things that matter less and not at all about the things that matter most. But thanks be to God that Jesus Christ died and rose for you and for me not so that we could be perfect but so that when we are failures he takes the judgment that hangs over our heads on to himself. We are dead in sin; Christ is raised from the dead and obliterates all the things that we carry with us and consider to be oh-so-important.
            We are terrible resurrection witnesses because we like the show more than the Savior. We like the trumpets and the singing more than the cross. We like the celebration more than the commitment of discipleship. We like to do it our own way.
            God knows this. It’s why it went down the way it did. It’s why Jesus had to die. And, still, God loves you and me enough to give us today. Easter morning. Thanks be to God, because Lord knows we don’t deserve it and that’s actually 100% the point.

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