Simon Peter and John the beloved disciple of Jesus are running to the tomb where Jesus’ body lies. It looks like they’re even competing with each other to see who is faster. John wins the race, but it’s Peter who goes into the tomb first. They both see no one and nothing but the linen wrappings and the cloth rolled up by itself. Their competitive race of who arrives at the tomb of Jesus first and who goes in there first finishes with nothing productive. John gets there first, but Peter goes into the tomb first. Jesus’ corpse is nowhere to be found. The end.
The person they followed for the past three years, sharing meals with together, living and journeying together, and learning from him about the coming of the kingdom of God is not there. Their friend and teacher whom they confessed as the Messiah, the Son of God isn’t there. The Jesus they know who is now dead is not even in his tomb. It is empty. Peter and John don't remember that Jesus talked about his rising from the dead. Their memory of it is gone. They return to their homes. They go back to their lives of which Jesus never took part, as if their 3 years never happened. They might even say their 3-year project of making a savior failed. What a waste, they might even say. They just gotta man up and go back to fishing. But Mary Magdalene is not ready to forget Jesus and go back to her everyday life. She’s not yet ready to move on. How can she simply go back to her old life as if nothing took place after experiencing God’s forgiveness and love in Jesus? I would like to share with you this Welsh poem by Saunders Lewis which so eloquently expresses and imagines Mary’s experience: About women, no one can know. There are some, Like this one, whose pain is a locked sepulchre; There pain is buried in them, there is no fleeing From it and no casting it off… ...Deep calls unto deep, a grave for a grave, A carcass drawing towards a carcass in that unhappy morning; Three days was this one in a grave, in a world that died In the cry in the afternoon. It is finished, The cry that drew blood from her like the barb of a sword. It is finished. Finished. Mary fell from the hill To the emptiness of the last Easter… A world without a living Christ, the horrifying Sabbath of creation, The abyss of the hundred thousand centuries and their end, Mary lay down in the grave of the trembling universe. …All the flowers of memory withered except the rain of blood ...God was extinguished, In the dying together, in the burying together… (quoted from the Resurrection by Rowan Williams, p. 45) Mary grieves. She weeps outside the empty tomb. She not only sheds tears for the missing body of Jesus but also feels shattered for his death. With her tearful eyes, she looks into the empty tomb as if Jesus’ corpse would show up. She then sees two angels in white, asking “Why are you weeping?” She answers them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” We actually have no idea what she means by “they.” Who are they? She doesn’t wait for their answer and turns around. She sees a person who she thinks is a gardener who asks the same question as the angels, “Why are you weeping?” The gardner asks one more question, “Who are you looking for?” Mary doesn’t give him relevant responses. Her response sounds like gibberish. She says, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” What’s more interesting and even puzzling is that she doesn’t recognize who this gardener really is. The body that she’s looking for is standing right in front of her, but she doesn’t see it. There can be many ways to make sense of Mary’s inability to recognize Jesus, but I do not know. St John doesn’t tell us much about how and why in the gospel lesson. If I want to make a comment on why Mary can’t recognize the resurrected Jesus, it would be that Mary faces something utterly new to her and this entire world. The early church describes this first day of the week, which is Sunday, as the “eighth day.” We all know that there are seven days in a week. And from the creation story in the Book of Genesis, we also know that God created the world for six days and rested on the seventh day, that is Sabbath, which falls on Saturday. With the resurrection of Jesus, there’s now the new day, the eighth day in which the new creation happens. This is the new reality that Mary herself is experiencing at the empty tomb though she doesn’t see it yet. In the center of this new creation lies Jesus who is risen from the dead. Jesus who stands in front of Mary is neither a ghost nor some kind of spiritual being. This Jesus who transformed the tomb to the womb is risen with his wounded but healed body. This completely and radically new reality, this Paschal Mystery in which death is overcome by Jesus’ resurrection reaches out to Mary in the most intimate and personal way. Jesus calls her by name, “Mary!” This time, Mary gets it. Mary finally sees Jesus. She calls Jesus in the most personal way, “Rabbouni! Teacher!” At this point, we might wonder how we ourselves can enter this new creation that is already here and now. How can we experience this new reality in which the resurrected Christ appears to us and stands in front of us? I can say, “Well, maybe you want to read the Bible more. Or why don’t you come to church more often?” Or even liturgically speaking, the liturgy, the Holy Eucharist is the new creation on earth where Christ is sacramentally present in the most mysterious way. These may be good enough answers. But let’s look at Mary this time. She’s very much aware that Jesus died. His death is real. What’s behind her tears, gibberish talk, grief and sorrow is her deepest longing for Jesus. It is her desire, anticipation, and yearning for Jesus. Her longing for him never leaves that empty tomb. Her desire to find the body of Jesus fills her eyes with tears. Her anticipation to bury him again makes her look again in the empty tomb. Her yearning for Jesus gives her the chance to be the very first person to encounter the risen Christ. Then, we might want to ask ourselves, “Do I have that longing of Mary for Jesus? Do I yearn for Jesus in my life?” This question might make you feel a bit judgmental of yourself, which is far from my intention. I ask this question simply because Jesus to us feels too far from our reality. But all of us here have access to this deep longing for Jesus. Let’s remember the times that you yearned for your loved ones, especially those who are no longer physically present with you. That deep sorrow and desire to see them again, and the heartache of how much you miss them is real. This longing becomes a means to hope for the resurrection that fulfills and heals your broken, grieving, and wounded heart. Two years ago at the Easter Vigil service, I preached on this same text. I talked about my friend and colleague who had just lost her husband. In that homily, I shared her testimony. She said, “I believe in the resurrection even though I do not feel it at all. I’m not sure if I’m ever going to feel it, but I commit myself to believe in the resurrection!” Four days ago as I was talking with her about what she told me about the resurrection, she said, “I can actually feel the resurrection which doesn’t mean that I don’t feel sad. I still do. But I do feel the resurrection. I see it. God is so much bigger than me.” What lingers in my heart is “I see it.” I see it! And this may be what Mary means when she tells the disciples, “I have seen the Lord!” So where have we seen the Lord? (Perhaps in Easter egg hunts?) We see the risen Christ wherever our longing for someone makes us hover around tombs. We see the risen Christ when our longing for someone seems to be haunted by death. Whenever death feels close, the power of the resurrection, the new creation Jesus has brought declares the death of death. With our own longing as a spiritual tool to empathize, we join longings of others who haven’t seen the Lord yet. In this solidarity, walking together with them in the valley of death, the risen Jesus stands outside the tombs of those who died. Not only is his tomb empty but we envision all the empty tombs. In the very reality of death, we can shout out, “I have seen the Lord!” In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. |
Paul"...life up your love to that cloud [of unknowing]...let God draw your love up to that cloud...through the help of his grace, to forget every other thing." Archives
January 2025
|