The Easter They Weren’t Expecting
Eight verses and the gospel writer leaves us with fear and what appears to be not one ounce of good news.
Mark 16:1-8
Eight verses. Eight verses is all Mark gives us when it comes to Easter. I've always preferred the Go heart of the matter without a bunch of fluff. Two Sundays ago. Last Sunday, we read the story of the death of Lazarus in the Gospel of John. John details Jesus's delay, travel, and raising of Lazarus over 44 verses. While Mark, Mark gives us 8 verses when it comes to the resurrection.
“Mary Magdalen and Mary brought spices so that they might go and anoint him… They went out and fled from the tomb… they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.”
Happy Easter.
Christ is Risen!
Let’s go to brunch.
Mark leaves us not with angels or rejoicing but with fear. Mark ends his gospel with fear. Like a brunch missing the main course, Mark leaves us wanting more.
If you have ever read the Gospel of Mark from cover to cover, you know the ending is abrupt. And abrupt is an understatement. It's not the ending you expect. No one expects the gospel of the good news of Jesus Christ to end with fear.
I don't know if many Easter songs were written based on Mark 16. I have been a pastor long enough to know that even the most seasoned churchgoer must have been a bit surprised to hear the Gospel of Mark read this morning.
You see, at Easter, Matthew, Luke, and John, like at Christmas, provide more color and excitement to their accounts than Mark. Matthew says the women were met at the tomb by an Angel. Luke reports two men present in “dazzling clothes.” John tells us that Jesus called Mary Magdalene by name.
You might have come to this cemetery this morning to hear one of those accounts, only to be like Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Jesus and find what you were not expecting. The women had gone to the cemetery to give Jesus a decent burial, to anoint his already decaying body with spices after the other disciples had abandoned him. No one, Rev. Fleming Rutledge likes to point out that no one, two thousand years ago or today, goes to a cemetery expecting the dead to be alive. You did not show up here this morning expecting the dead to be alive, for the gravestones to be toppled, and for the saints of Walker Chapel to have gone ahead of you. And if that did happen this morning, like Mary and Mary, you might leave this place being seized by terror or amazement.
Jesus told his disciples exactly what was going to happen. Jesus told his disciples three times that he would suffer, die, and be raised to new life. In the Gospel of Mark, he says it three times. Mark 8 – “he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again.”[i]
Mark 9 - “The Son of Man is to be betrayed into human hands, and they will kill him, and three days after being killed, he will rise again.”[ii]
And Mark 10 – “The Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and the scribes, and they will condemn him to death; then they will hand him over to the Gentiles; they will mock him, and spit upon him, and flog him, and kill him; and after three days he will rise again.”[iii]
Mary Magdalene and Mary still arrived at the cemetery for an Easter they were not expecting. But Jesus would not be held behind a stone as a sweet memory to be fondly remembered. He had gone ahead of the women. He had gone ahead of the disciples.
Eight verses and the gospel writer leaves us with fear and what appears to be not one ounce of good news.
We know that the terror, amazement, and fear that gripped Mary Magdalene and Mary did not last forever. We know 2000 years later because we have witness after witness who encountered the resurrected Christ and who were also sent ahead of us, bearing witness that the grip sin and death thought they held over us is indeed no more. We know through the witness of the Saints buried here in the Walker Chapel Cemetery and the saints whose memory we carry in our hearts that the grand victory of Christ we celebrate today has been promised to us, too.
Mark never got around to finishing his gospel—no biggie. There is no “The End.” The whole point of the empty tomb is that the story is unfinished. Christ's victory is not done like the women at the tomb. We may feel terror, amazement, or even fear when we find Christ has overcome death.
Jesus is not in the tomb. He has gone ahead of us. He is in Galilee. He is in Arlington, McLean, and DC.
When we gathered this past Sunday to wave palm branches and shout “Hosanna!” we had our proof of Easter.
When we gathered on Thursday evening, broke bread, and shared a cup, we had our proof of Easter.
If you arrived this morning expecting proof, look around. We are here. We are the proof that Christ is risen. As we gathered this morning, singing Alleluia after Alleluia, we have our proof of Easter.
2nd-century preachers did not like the ending of Mark's eight-verse Easter account. They found it abrupt, so they revised it. And it's easy to bust their chops. But those 2nd-century preachers did what all of us continue to do today: attempt to make sense of an ending we were not expecting.
So, what do we do with this story? That's not for me to tell you. After all, you came here looking for Jesus. You did not come here in the early morning hours looking for me.
Jesus will not be held down by death; if you follow him, he will not take you to places of deadly certainty. Jesus will meet you though in Galilee. Jesus will meet you in Arlington, McLean, and DC. Jesus will meet you wherever you go next, which is why Mark is OK ending his gospel with fear over certainty.
We know the gospel did not end with fear and silence. We know because we are living proof that our Lord lives. So, we tell the world.
Alleluia! Christ is Risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!
[i] Mark 8:31
[ii] Mark 9:31
[iii] Mark 10:33-34