Easter sermon (in-person worship) Hoping in the Dark

 John 20:1-18
Hoping in the Dark
James Sledge                Resurrection of the Lord (in person worship)                 April 4, 2021

The Empty Tomb, He Qi © 2021 All rights reserved.

 It is so great to see you all, actually to gather together to celebrate Easter. And what a perfect setting, a bright blue sky while the sun warms the day. What a glorious Easter morning. I think we expect Easter to be bright and sunny, even more so if you head to an outdoor sunrise service, or when you gather in a parking lot.

But as much as we may associate Easter with the brightness of spring, the Easter story in the gospel of John takes place in the dark. Sunrise services are popular at Easter and some of you went to ours, but there is no mention of a sunrise in our scripture passage. It simply says that Mary came to the tomb while it was still dark.

While it was still dark… The darkness is literal, but in John’s gospel, the metaphor of darkness is never far off. I’ve become more hesitant in using such metaphors as I’ve realized more the depths of our society’s systemic racism, part of which is having dark always mean bad and light always mean good.

However, I’m not quite sure how to avoid such metaphors when working with John’s gospel. He contrasts dark and light so often. At least I can rest assured that there are no racial overtones in the gospel. The gospel writer lived in a time without electricity or streetlights. The literal darkness of night could be frightening, even dangerous.

When Mary heads to the tomb, it is literally dark, but there is also a sense of fear and danger. Her beloved Jesus had been executed by the Romans for sedition. She is distraught, confused, afraid, unsure what will happen next. The gospel writer’s while it was still dark reflects this, and it hangs over the entire story. There is no mention of daylight ever arriving.

Apparently it is still dark when Peter and the beloved disciple race to the tomb. To be honest, I have no idea why these two men appear in the story. They arrive, go in the tomb, see it is indeed empty, then leave. And we are told explicitly that they do not yet get it. …For as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead.

Mary doesn’t yet understand either, but she stays at the tomb. It is still dark, and she is still distraught, confused, afraid, and unsure what happens next. Even angels cannot change that. She is too overwhelmed by the pain and suffering and brokenness of her world.

Of course we know what Mary does not. But we shouldn’t be in too big of a hurry to yank Mary out of her grief, to wipe away the pain and brokenness of the world that weighs so heavily on her that morning. That pain and brokenness are real, and the good news of Easter does not simply make them vanish.

Sometimes our celebration of Easter can feel like a momentary denial of the pain, the hurt, the brokenness of the world. We’ll rejoice and shout Alleluias and wear bright colors and act like all is wonderful. Then we’ll go home to newscasts and headlines that don’t look any different than the day before. In a way, we will go home while it is still dark.

Sometimes it is nice to forget about the world’s pain and brokenness, simply to revel in the news that Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! But I wonder if acknowledging the darkness might make our celebration more meaningful, more filled with true joy.

I don’t think that many of us actually want to deny the pain and brokenness of the world, especially not after this past year. More than a half million people have died from Covid, a number that is difficult to comprehend. And a significant number of those people need not have died. Their deaths could have been prevented.

Currently, a police officer is on trial for the murder of George Floyd. Mr. Floyd’s death and its aftermath opened the eyes of many to the ways in which white supremacy is woven through every facet of our society, the many ways that Black lives do in fact matter less than those of others. The brokenness, the sinfulness of racism and white supremacy are right there for anyone with eyes to see, and it will still be there when our Easter celebration is over.

Then there is the sobering fact that this very day, this day of resurrection, is the fifty-third anniversary of Martin Luther King’s assassination. Fifty-three years later, almost no one would say that his dream has been fully realized. Fifty-three years, a considerably longer time than the thirty-nine-year span of Dr. King’s life.

And how many mass shootings have there been during Lent alone?

There is no denying the pain and brokenness and sinfulness of the world. But then again, the resurrection story never did try to deny them, even if our Easter celebration sometimes do. No, resurrection happens in the shadow of the cross, while it was still dark. Easter without the cross, like Christianity without the cross, is Pollyanna foolishness.

But the resurrection is not Pollyannaish at all. It does not say everything will be wonderful if you believe in Jesus. Nor does it say, “It may be a crappy world, but don’t worry, you get to go to heaven when you die.” No, the resurrection knows the depth of human pain and suffering. The resurrection can put an arm around someone who has lost loved ones to Covid, who knows the fear of driving while Black, who grieves over the latest shooting, who simply does not feel like celebrating after this last year. The resurrection can hug them and weep with them.

But the resurrection also insists that God’s love has not abandoned the world despite how messed up it is. The resurrection insists that hope is alive in the world even when it is still dark. The resurrection insists that all the forces of evil in the world, hate, racism, white supremacy, lust for power, rampant greed, unbridled consumerism, ethnic violence, and more cannot finally stop or thwart the love of God that is alive and loose in the world.

While it was still dark, Mary Magdalene met the risen Jesus, but she did not recognize him. Then he called her. The Good Shepherd called her by name, and she recognized his voice. It was still dark, but the light shone in that darkness, and the darkness could not overcome it. Then she ran to tell the others, “I have seen the Lord.” Hope is alive, even if it is still dark.

Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed! Hope and love are loose in a world that often tries to snuff them out. Hope and love are poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirits so that we may become beacons of hope and love for a hurting world.

Jesus Christ is risen today! Christ is risen indeed! With our voices and with our lives let us boldly proclaim, “Hope is alive! Love is alive!” Hope and love are indeed loose in the world, and beckoning that world, and us, to new, resurrection life. Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed! Alleluia! Thanks be to God!