In the predawn darkness she trudged toward the tomb – tears staining her face and the occasional sob cutting through the silence. She had not slept much and now the cool, dark air enveloped her in a cloak of grief and pain that seemed unending. How was it possible that her life could be changed so drastically in such a short time? Now at least the Sabbath was over and she could go to the tomb and grieve. Mary pulled her cloak around her as she neared the tomb. Something seemed out of place – the stone was not in front of the tomb.
Oh no! After all we have been through – not this she thought – someone has taken Jesus’ body. She raced back to tell the disciples – “They taken the Lord out of the tomb and we don’t know where they have laid him.” Peter and John run back to the tomb and look in – the linen clothes are lying there, but just as Mary had said, there was no body – Peter goes in the tomb and picks up the linen cloth – then lets it drop back down. They don’t know what to make of it – who would have taken the body? Why? They go back to the house where they were staying – leaving Mary weeping outside the tomb.
Then, as Mary looked back in the tomb, she sees two angels – sitting where the body had been. “Woman, why are you weeping?” they asked her. They have taken away my Lord, and I don’t know where they have laid him” Glancing back outside, she sees another person and through her tear-blurred vision thinks he is the gardener – “Sir, if you have carried him away, just tell me where you have taken him and I will go and take the body.”
“Mary,” Jesus said to her. And as he called her by name, Mary realized it was Jesus. In wonder and disbelief she cries out, “Rabboni!” Her mind racing with a thousand thoughts and questions, she moves toward him, but Jesus interrupts her – “Go and tell the others, say to them ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.”
Once again Mary hurries back to where the disciples were and tells them, “I have seen the Lord!”
Paul was on the road to Damascus – on his way to extradite some followers of Jesus who had tried to flee to a neighboring city. He was helping to stop the ridiculous claims about a guy who was supposed to be a messiah and had been crucified and whose followers claimed he had been raised from death – how preposterous is that! “It was about noon,” Paul said, “and suddenly a bright light flashed from the sky and I fell to the ground and heard a voice say to me, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” “Who are you, Lord,” I asked. I am Jesus, whom you persecute” I literally had been blinded by the light, but my companions, took me to Damascus – to the house of Ananias, as Jesus told me to do, and as soon as I came into Ananias’ presence, my sight came back and Ananias said to me, “Saul, the God of our ancestors has chosen you to know his will and see his Servant Jesus and hear him speaking with his own voice. For you will be a witness for him and tell everyone what you have seen and heard.”
It was in a dark, urine-smelling cell in Namibia. Pastor Simon Farisani had been in it for weeks for preaching against the South African Apartheid system. He had been tortured in ways to graphic to describe here, but now he was hanging by his wrists in this small, dark cell. He did not know if it was day or night, nor did he care. His face was swollen and bloody, his body bruised and battered, burn marks from the electric shocks evident. He was praying – praying to God to die – no longer caring that he would not see his family or church members, no longer worrying about what might happen to them. He only wanted the torture and beatings to end.
“Let me die,” he sobbed – “Just let me die.” That was when he saw Jesus. Jesus showed him his wounds. “I have known your suffering, Simon, and I will be with you,” Jesus said to him. “I saw Jesus.” That’s what he said to me – and the other seminarians and pastors present at the special convocation at Philadelphia Seminary in 1986 where Pastor Farisani told his story, and I had no doubt in my mind that Jesus had appeared to him.
It was just about dawn on a chilly Spring day when Dave awoke under the bridge in Sacramento. He had been living here for a couple of years, panhandling to get money for the drugs and alcohol that he so desperately needed every day. It had been a long downward spiral for Dave – once a promising young man from suburban Pittsburgh. But his addiction had caught up to him – college drop out – several lost jobs – and with them he eventually lost houses or apartments – until he was homeless – wandering the streets, looking for a protected and safe place to sleep. Unshaven – dirty – looking through garbage cans in the back of restaurants for food.
On this morning he noticed that his buddy, Joe, who usually slept under the same bridge had not come back last night, so he began to walk to some of their usual haunts to look for him. He found him in the nearby park, where they would sometimes nap on a bench. That’s where he was – on a bench. But he was dead. Joe – gone – probably an overdose or some bad drugs, he thought. Jeez, last year it was George – now Joe.
That’s when Dave heard a voice – “Dave – you’re next!” He looked around and then as he looked up he saw him – Jesus. “Dave, if you don’t change, you’re next!” That’s all, just a vision and a warning. But as Dave told me that story at our fortieth 9th grade reunion of ninth grade, I had no doubt in my mind that Dave had seen Jesus. And it had changed his life forever.
What do you say to a group of Christians about the resurrection of Jesus? That’s a question that faces a preacher every Easter. But it was also the question that faced the writers of our Gospels. Matthew, Mark, Luke and John all knew that most of the people who were going to read or hear their gospels were already believers. Mark’s Gospel, the earliest, was written some 30 years after the resurrection. So they must have had a purpose other than just recording these stories for history. Mark’s gospel was written during Nero’s persecution and John during the persecution of Domitian. Their readers could be facing imprisonment, torture, death. Some of the Christians were denying Jesus, and felt like utter failures trying to follow Jesus in the midst of all of the problems and tribulations of their life.
They needed assurance that Jesus was still with them, and would be with them in the midst of their trials and problems. They needed to know that even if they had failed Jesus -- Jesus would not fail them.
I don’t believe in the resurrection of Jesus only because of the stories in the Bible. I believe in the resurrection because this same Jesus keeps coming to people today – sometimes as a visible presence that astonishes them, like Simon Farisani and Dave Marks, and sometimes as a quiet, reassuring presence that a person cannot deny and which strengthens them. Jesus is a living Lord who keeps changing lives and empowering people to acts of love, forgiveness and kindness. And I believe we gather on Easter, even if we don’t come to church at any other time, because we all need to hear these stories again – we all need the reassurance of Jesus’ presence with us, of Jesus’ forgiveness of us, of Jesus’ power to change us.
The world is different today because of the resurrection and the continuing presence of Jesus and of the continuing power of Jesus in the lives of his followers. The power of love and forgiveness which God unleashed in Jesus continues to be the hope of the world – and our hope. It changed Mary, and Paul. It changed Simon and Dave – it has made all the difference in my life and the lives of millions of followers over the past 2000 years. And if it hasn’t already, it can make all the difference in your life. That’s why I am bold to stand here and proclaim – Christ is Risen!
Amen.