I Have Seen the Lord! Easter Sunday

John 20:1-18

April 20, 2019

            There is something mysterious and wonderful about that time just before dawn. It is an in-between time and the light reflects that. The light at that time of the morning is strange. The light, pre-dawn, is not the velvety pitch black of three a.m. But it is not the glowing light of nine a.m. either. The sky is lightening but the sun has not yet risen. There is light, but there is not light. Even as the morning light grows and expands, shadows still linger. If you have been up and outside at that time of the morning, it is hard to know what is what. It is hard to know what you’re seeing. Is that a person sitting and thinking or is that just an old stump? Did that tree move? No wait, it’s an animal. Objects regain their sharp distinctions in the full light of day, but in the darkness of early morning, lines are blurred and edges are indistinct.

            The story of Jesus’ resurrection in John’s gospel tells us that Mary Magdalene came to the tomb on that first day of the week while it was still dark. I suspect that it was the darkness I have described. It was dark, but it was a moving dark, a muted dark, a dark dancing on the verge of day. In this soft darkness, Mary Magdalene made her way to the tomb. Maybe she thought she was seeing things when she saw the stone rolled away. Perhaps she thought the diffused light was playing tricks on her eyes. It was the shadows that made the stone looked rolled away. Surely, the tomb was still sealed and Jesus’ lifeless body still lay inside.

            But no, this was no trick of light or shadow. This was real. The stone had been rolled away. Mary assumed what most of us would. Jesus’ body had been taken, moved, so that his followers could not recover him; a further punishment and indignity on top of so much injustice. Mary did not hesitate or vacillate. She ran to Peter and the other disciple, whom Jesus loved, and told them this horrible news,

            “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.”

            Peter and the other disciple both set off at a run to see what Mary was talking about. Although the other disciple ran faster and reached the tomb first, he did not go in. He just looked in and saw the linen cloths. Peter, reaching the tomb next, went inside. He too saw the linen wrappings that had covered Jesus’ body lying empty. And he also saw the cloth that had covered Jesus’ face, not lying with the other ones, but rolled up and lying by itself. Once Peter went in, then the other disciple followed. He saw the forsaken cloths and believed; but as one commentator wrote, he believed without comprehension. Yet whatever Simon Peter and this other disciple understood or did not understand, they did nothing about it. They made no decision to act. They did not rush off to tell the others. They said nothing else to Mary. They just returned to their homes.

            But Mary stayed. Mary stayed in that garden where the tomb was. She stayed even though the stone had been rolled away and the tomb was clearly empty. She stayed and she wept. She wept because Jesus her teacher, her beloved teacher was gone. We are not privy to her thoughts, but we have a direct view into her feelings. She wept at the absence of her Lord. And as she wept, she did what Simon Peter and the other disciple had done. She bent over and looked into the tomb.

            Maybe the half dark, half light had also played tricks on the disciples’ eyes; maybe they were unable to see beyond who was not in the tomb, and perhaps the angels who stared back at Mary were not there when Peter and the other disciple peered into the grave site. But when Mary bent over and gazed in, she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had lain – one at the foot, one at the head.

            They asked Mary,

            “Woman, why are you weeping?”

            “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.”

            No sooner had these words left her lips, then she turned around and saw Jesus standing there. Was it the strange darkness that kept her from really seeing who was standing in front of her? She saw Jesus, but she did not see Jesus. She was in a garden, and she assumed this man was the gardener. He asked her the same question the angels had,

            “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?”

            Possibly this gardener had the answers she so desperately sought.

            “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.”

            Jesus did not answer except to call her by name.

            “Mary!”

            Then her eyes were opened. Then she saw clearly. When her teacher called her name – Mary! – she recognized Jesus. She saw Jesus. She knew Jesus. The darkness finally lifted. What had once been blurry and confused was now clear. Jesus was dead. But he is alive. He is resurrected. He is risen.

            Jesus did not come to Mary with an explanation of what happened in that tomb to make it empty. He did not offer a doctrine of resurrection. He did not preach theology of new life. He just called her by name – her name.

            Ultimately, isn’t that how resurrection comes to us? Isn’t that how belief and faith occurs? We can hear sermon after sermon, testimony after testimony about what we should believe and why, but it is when we hear Jesus calling our name … Amy, Brent, Lynn, John, Mary Ann, Beth, Barbara, Emily, Bette, Jack, Don, Wanda, Thomas, Phoebe, Zach, and so on … that we believe? Isn’t it when Jesus calls us by our names that we are able to proclaim “I have seen the Lord?!”

            God loves the world so much that God resurrected God’s son, but God also loves us so much, each one of us, that God resurrected God’s son, God’s self, for us, for each of us. It is not either or, it is both and. When have you experienced resurrection? When have you heard Jesus call you by name? When have you sat alone in the dark weeping, distraught because all that you knew was gone and all that you had hoped for was lost; and then Jesus called you by name, and you saw, and you knew, and you believed? Because that is resurrection. It is more than doctrine or theology. Words cannot describe it and ideas cannot contain it. Resurrection is Jesus coming to us in our darkness, in our sorrow, in our grief and calling us by name. I have seen the Lord in those moments. I have seen the Lord in my darkness. I have seen the Lord when I thought all was lost. I have seen the Lord, and my sorrow turned to joy, my desolation to hope, my certainty of death transformed to trust in the new life, new thing God is doing all around me.

            On this day of resurrection, on this day of celebration, on this day when we shout “He is risen, He is risen indeed!” when have you seen the Lord? You have seen him. I know it. That’s why you’re here. That’s why we are all here. Now tell the world. Fill every silence with the ringing sound of the good news.

We have all seen the Lord! We have all seen the Lord! We have all seen the Lord! He is risen! He is risen indeed! Amen.