In John's gospel, Mary goes to the tomb "while it was still dark." And Mary is caught up in that darkness even after finding the empty tomb. Mary's witness is powerful precisely because she knows the depth of the darkness.John 20:1-18
Facing the Darkness
Surely Easter is the brightest day of the year for the Church. The culture may prefer Christmas, but the Church knows that Easter is the center. The very fact that we worship on Sunday rather than the Sabbath is a nod to Easter. Each Sunday we celebrate the resurrection.
This Sunday would have been a great day to attend an Easter sunrise service. The light streaming over the horizon signals a new day, the Day of Resurrection. We rejoice in its dawning. But in John’s gospel, there is no sunlight on that first Easter morn. Mary heads to the tomb early, while it is still dark.
In John’s gospel, we hear often of light and dark. The gospel opens with the Word that was in the beginning with God. This Word is the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. But try telling that to Mary as she makes her way in the darkness to find an empty tomb. In the dark, the empty tomb brings no joy to Mary. All she can think is that grave robbers have struck. And so she runs to find Peter and that other disciple. Maybe they can help her find Jesus’ body.
I’m not at all sure what motivates the foot race that follows. The last time we saw Peter he was denying that he was one of Jesus’ disciples, but the other disciple was there with Jesus at the cross. Is Peter trying to redeem himself here? What does he hope to find when he gets there? But the other disciple bests Peter again, although Peter enters the tomb first.
They see the grave clothes, neatly folded, not at all like when Jesus raised Lazarus who came out of the tomb all tangled up in cloth, needing to be unbound. When the beloved disciple with Peter goes in and sees it, he believes. Just what he believes is a bit unclear. The reading says he doesn’t understand that Jesus must rise from the dead. He apparently doesn’t get what has happened. Still he believes.
Maybe this comforted him in some way that he couldn’t quite understand. I don’t know. But he and Peter go home, leaving Mary alone in the dark. Sometimes I think that we in the church are a bit like this. We see the empty tomb. We believe it is good news in some way. We celebrate Easter and we go home. And we never quite seem to recognize or confront the darkness. But Mary does.
Mary is caught up in darkness. How could she not be? Her loss is so great. Obviously she has loved Jesus dearly. She stood by him as he died. Now, before it was even safe to be out, she has gone his grave. But his body is not there.
Desecration of a body was a terrible thing for Jews such as Mary. In our day, we’ve seen news stories about funeral homes that didn’t actually bury people where they said or presented families with ashes that weren’t actually their loved ones. The trauma for these families is terrible. First the loss of a loved one and then this. Darkness on top of darkness.
But today is Easter and we are here to celebrate the light that darkness could not overwhelm. But that does not mean there is no darkness. And I worry that the church’s witness is sometimes compromised by not confronting or even acknowledging the darkness.
Sometimes people outside the church view us as a bunch of Pollyannas who see the world through rose colored glasses. I realize that does not accurately describe many of you, but it is how we are often perceived. And we do sometimes live out this stereotype.
As a pastor I spend more than my share of time around illness, pain, tragedy, and death. And I see church members lovingly care for one another and support one another in times of great difficulty. Yet I have observed that those whose presence is least comforting are often those who waltz into the room with an Easter message on their lips. “Cheer up. Everything is going to be okay. He’s in a better place. You should be happy that she is in heaven.” All those things may be true, but they do not change the fact that the pain, the loss, the darkness of that moment can be overwhelming. This sort of “comfort” seems to deny the darkness.
True Christian witness knows all about darkness. That is why Mary is such a compelling witness, even in a day when women were not considered reliable or legally valid witnesses. Mary is no cheery-faced Pollyanna. She does not go to the tomb sure that everything will come out all right in the end.
She is distraught. She has watched Jesus die an agonizing death. She has had to delay visiting his grave because of the Sabbath. And now that grave is empty. Even the presence of angels cannot draw her out of the darkness. At first, even Jesus himself cannot deflect her desire to find the body, to find some small anchor to hold onto in the midst of the darkness that she fears may swallow her up entirely.
Then Jesus speaks. The good shepherd calls his sheep, and she recognizes his voice. The darkness is real, but it has not been able to swallow up this light. And when Mary tells the others, “I have seen the Lord,” it is the powerful witness of one who knows full well the terrors of the darkness. It is the powerful witness of one who knows that no matter the terrible pain and suffering in the world, no matter the awful power of darkness, God’s love will somehow triumph.
This is a promise that has transformed countless people prompting them to live totally new lives, to challenge the powers of darkness even at the risk of their own lives, because they know that even death cannot separate them from God’s love.
But then religious folk go and domesticate the message, robbing it of its power and hope. I’m not talking about people like you. I’m talking about people like me, pastors, theologians, and educators who want to explain it and help everyone understand. We compare resurrection to a butterfly emerging from a cocoon and invoke images of spring, as if the whole business was simply the normal course of things. Oh, there’s not really any darkness. It was just winter. It’s just the natural order.
Mary knows better. Mary can come and sit with the mother who has just lost a child, the soldier whose body and mind was shattered by a roadside bomb, the father who has lost job and home and must take his family to a shelter, the person whose marriage has disintegrated. And Mary can speak good news to them because she knows their darkness is real. She makes no claims that it is not, nor does she pretend to fully understand how on earth God’s creation could have gotten so messed up, so filled with darkness. Her message is simple. She has seen the Lord, and so she knows that no enemy, no darkness, is stronger than God and God’s love.
Darkness is real. Most of us have times in our lives when we fear that it could swallow us. But, the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. God has done the impossible! Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Thanks be to God!
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