Sermon: Light in the Darkness

John 20:1-18

Light in the Darkness

James Sledge                                       March 27, 2016 – Resurrection of the Lord

The first church I served as pastor did an Easter sunrise service with four other churches, though the term “sunrise” was a bit of a misnomer. Only one of the five pastors wanted to make it a true sunrise event. Every year he would argue for a location and a time where worshipers would experience the sun rising above the horizon mid-service. And every year the rest of us would shoot him down. None of us really liked getting up that early to begin with, and we always scheduled the service as late as practical.

I suppose that sunrise services are to be expected considering that the first Easter happens early in the morning. Interestingly, however, there is no mention of sunrise in John’s gospel, quite the opposite. The gospel tells us that Mary went to the tomb early, while it was still dark, and presumably, the entire story takes place in darkness.

Of course darkness has featured prominently in John’s gospel from the beginning. John’s gospel has no Christmas story. Instead it goes all the way back to Creation for its start. In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. (By the way, if you know the Genesis story that starts, In the beginning… you know that darkness covered the face of the deep. But to continue with John’s beginning.) He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him is life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

In the darkness, Mary heads out for the tomb. She’s distraught at having lost Jesus, and now that Passover and Sabbath are over, she can go and visit his tomb. A body is all she has now. But then she discovers that even that is gone.

John’s Easter story is quite different from the other gospels that speak of several women at the tomb and say almost nothing about disciples. Modern people are prone to wonder which gospel got the story straight, but that misunderstands the work of the gospel writers. They are much more concerned with truth than historical accuracy.

I think it was Eugene Peterson who said, “All stories are true. Some of them actually happened.” Clearly something actually happened that first Easter. Jewish messiahs got executed with some regularity by the Romans, and that was always the last anyone ever heard of them, until Jesus. Death’s inability to hold him is central to all the gospels, but John has other truths to tell alongside the good news of unexpected, unprecedented resurrection.

Many of us have heard the story so many times we don’t always listen with much care, so it may help to consider its elements. Mary, her horrible grief made worse by the loss of Jesus’ body, goes back to get the disciples. Perhaps they can help her find the body.

I’ve never known just how to understand what happens next, a footrace, a rivalry acted out in that darkness. Peter runs, but the beloved disciples runs faster. They seem to have forgotten all about Mary. The rivalry reverses as Peter goes into the tomb first. He sees the burial wrappings rolled up and placed in a very particular manner, nothing like when Jesus raised Lazarus and they had to roll away the stone and then unwrap him.

The beloved disciple goes into the tomb second and sees what Peter saw. He saw and believed, though just what he believed is hard to say. Belief is a big deal in John’s gospel so  surely he believed something more than body simply being gone, but we are told that neither he nor Peter yet understood that Jesus must rise from the dead. They have discovered something; one disciple believes something, but then they leave and return home.

Poor Mary, all alone in the dark once more. The disciples have been no help at all. Jesus’ body is still missing. She looks into the tomb and see something the disciples had not. Two angels. Their positions suggest to some the heavenly figures on top of the Ark of the Covenant, figures that formed a throne for God. They speak to Mary, but all she can think of is finding the body. Angels will not do, and she turns away from the tomb.

She turns and see Jesus, but naturally she does not recognize him. It is dark; plus she is looking for a body. Perhaps this person knows where it is. “Tell me where you’ve laid the body and I will take him away.”

“Mary!” One word and everything changes. The good shepherd calls his sheep by name, and she recognizes him. The light shines in the darkness, light no darkness can overcome.

But the story is not yet ended. Jesus says, “Do not hold onto me,” or perhaps, “Do not keep holding me.” Curiously, no mention has been made of Mary grabbing him. She has said, “Rabbouni!” which we are told is Hebrew for “Rabbi.” More accurately, it is Hebrew for “My Rabbi!” I wonder if this is the hold that Jesus tells Mary to release. The light that overcomes darkness is a different Jesus, one who cannot be her rabbi, cannot be the friend who walks the roads of Galilee with her.

Jesus had told his followers about this earlier. His return to the Father will open the way for the Spirit, open the way for the ongoing presence of Jesus and the Father to dwell in them, and also to dwell with those who will hear and believe.

Jesus is different. He is now the risen Christ. And in her encounter with him, Mary is transformed as well. No longer is she an anguished, distraught friend, seeking a body in the dark. Hearing the Good Shepherd call her by name, touched by the light that shines in the darkness, she becomes the first evangelist, the first teller of the good news. “I have seen the Lord,” she told the others.

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never be so dark again. Nothing can ever be the same.

Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed! Alleluia!