Mariann Edgar Budde, Bischöfin Episcopal Diocese of Washington, Washington D.C./USA
Boldly Setting Out
Introduction:
Each of the four gospel narratives of Jesus’ life tell the story of the first Easter morning in its own way. They do not agree on many of the Details – who was there, to whom did they speak, what they were told, and how they responded.
After Easter morning, the gospels tell us of a brief season of time in which Jesus repeatedly appears to them after he had been raised from the dead. In some of the stories, it’s clear that his appearance is a mystical encounter for the disciples, but in others his physical presence is emphasized. He insists that they can touch him; he sits down to eat.
But in all of the stories of Jesus’ resurrection there is not the least suggestion that Jesus rose from the dead in order to resume life as before. His is not a constant presence, but episodic and unpredictable. He doesn’t stay long. He often vanishes from sight.
Thus when we approach the accounts of the disciples' experience of Jesus’ resurrection it is apparent that they do not describe life as we know it. Rather, they are attempting to communicate what it feels like to glimpse another dimension of life entirely. The power isn’t in the details of the stories themselves, but what they are attempting to communicate:
the experience and hope that lies at the heart of Christian faith. What it feels like to have an encounter, and a relationship with the Risen Jesus.
After the sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb.
On the first Easter morning, all four gospels agree that some of Jesus’ disciples went to the tomb where his body had been placed after the crucifixion. The first to go – again, all accounts agree – were the women of his movement. The Gospel of Matthew names them as Mary Magdalene and the other Mary. They went, as Matthew tells us, “as light was dawning.”
Symbolically, the dawning light is a reminder that, in the words of the psalmists, “Weeping may spend the night, but joy comes in the morning.” (Psalm 30:5)
It’s often said that the darkest hour is before dawn. But each day brings the promise of a new beginning. Like the wise men at the beginning of Matthew’s Gospel who follow the star toward the Christ child, the women follow the dawning light toward the empty tomb.
For the women to have set out with the dawning light, they must have arisen from their beds while it was still dark, again, a reminder that what emerges in the light has its origins in Darkness.
God invites us to rise and move toward the light of new life while it’s still dark, before we even know that a new life awaits us.
The Gospel of John highlights the interplay between darkness and light even more explicitly than the other three. Remember in John, we’re told from the very beginning that “the light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it.” And at the end, John tells us that Mary Magdalene rose and went to the tomb “while it was still dark.”
The darkest hour is before dawn. But when the dawn comes, it fills what once was dark with the possibility of a new day.
When have you been summoned to rise in the dark to walk toward the light of dawn?
Where might the light of dawn be beckoning you now, or all of us as the human family?
Where in your life, or in our collective life, is it still dark?
Might it be time to rise while it’s still dark so that when the light comes you, and we, are ready?
In the Gospels of Mark and Luke, we’re told that women’s intent was to do the sacred work of anointing Jesus’ body for burial that was forbidden to them on the day of his death because of the sabbath. But in this version, they go simply to see the tomb, for the same reason John gives in his account. Mary Magdalene rose by herself, while it was still dark, in order to see the tomb.
In all accounts, we are given the image of women rising early in the morning, as soon as their religious customs allowed them, to see the tomb where Jesus had been buried.
Do you think that they felt brave in going to the tomb?
Was it an act of courage to go to the place where a crucified man was buried?
Crucifixion, we are told, was a form of execution that the Romans reserved for insurrectionists – those attempting to overthrow the Roman rulers – and escaped slaves. Were they, then, in the early morning, boldly setting out?
Looking back at their decision to go to the tomb, we would say that they were the bold ones. The men had, understandably, all fled in fear for their lives.
Yet I doubt that the women felt bold as they rose from their beds in the dark in order to set out as soon as they could. I imagine that they were still grief-stricken and in deep shock after the terrible events of the previous days and the trauma of seeing someone they loved and followed executed in such a tortuous manner, helpless to prevent his suffering.
They went, according to two versions of the story, because at last there was something they could do for him. They could properly anoint his body. In two other accounts, including the one before us today, they went simply because they wanted to be close to his body, to see the tomb.
Acts of courage, what we might consider being brave or bold, are rarely experienced that way, at least not in the beginning. We go, as the women went, because we feel summoned somehow, called to go, or simply because there is nothing else we can think of to do.
I wonder if you can think of a time in your life, or in the life of someone close to you, when you, or they, felt a similar impulse to move, to go, to make your presence known, simply because you needed to be there. And was that a brave thing to do? Did others think you were being brave?
And suddenly there was a great earthquake; for an angel of the Lord, descending from heaven, came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow. For fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men.
These details are unique to the Gospel of Matthew. In no other account is there mention of an earthquake, or specifically that an angel descended down from heaven, rolled back the stone and sat on it. Nor are guards present at the tomb in other versions.
It’s impossible for us to verify the historical accuracy of such details. We can, however, consider their symbolic meaning. Jesus’ resurrection was heralded by a dramatic event in the natural world, and the removal of the stone explained by the presence of a powerful angel descending from heaven. And guards are mentioned–soldiers protecting the tomb, and they shake with fear. Later in Matthew we are told that they go and report all that has happened, and are instructed by their superiors to say that Jesus’ followers removed the stone and stole his body, which may well have been what those disputing the first witnesses to the resurrection believed.
When trying to explain the truly transformative moments in life, we often draw upon images of nature. What kind of experience might you liken to an earthquake? The American author Bruce Fieler uses the term “life quake” to describe the experiences so dramatic that life after them is forever changed. Are there such moments in your life that come to mind?
The removal of the stone at the entrance of the tomb is also rich in symbolic meaning. For such a stone is so heavy that it would take tremendous effort to remove it, well beyond the capacity of one or two people. Yet when they arrive at the tomb, the stone is removed for them. What does it feel like when something so large and seemingly impossible to move is moved for us?
Remember this is not a story describing life as we know it, but rather one attempting to describe what it’s like to see a glimpse of another dimension of life, and to describe the lived experience of the Christian faith.
But the angel said to the women, ‘Do not be afraid.”
The angels first words to the two Marys are what angels almost say when they appear in the gospels: Do not be afraid. It suggests that encountering an angel, a messenger from God, can be a frightening experience, or at least a startling one, especially if that angel just rolled away a large stone and is sitting on it.
Sometimes when someone speaks to us, it is with the power of a divine messenger. The impact on us can be as if an earthquake has struck.
The angel continues:
“I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples, ‘He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.’
This is a lot of information for the women to take in:
- You are looking for Jesus. He is not here. He has been raised.
- Go quickly and tell the disciples. (I might insert the word other. Go tell the other disciples, for surely the women were his disciples, too).
- He has been raised from the dead. He is going ahead of you to Galilee. There you will see him.
There is this sense of urgency. Something has happened. Jesus is raised from the dead. He is going ahead of you.Tell the others.
Something enormous has happened, and they are to be the messengers now.
So the women start to leave, with fear and great joy.
They began their journey in grief. Now they prepare to go in fear and great joy – two powerful, seemingly contradictory emotions.
Do they feel brave and bold as they set forth? Perhaps. Or are the other emotions so overwhelming as to propel them forward?
What is clear is that the world they once knew, and everything has changed.
There is more:
So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy, and ran to tell his disciples. Suddenly Jesus met them and said, ‘Greetings!’ And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshipped him. Then Jesus said to them, ‘Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.’
First the angel. Now Jesus appears to them as they leave the tomb. In Matthew’s account they are able to touch him. Contrast this description with that of the Gospel of John in which Jesus famously tells Mary Magdalene, “Do not cling to me. Do not touch me.” In this version they hold on until he repeats the what the angel had first told them:
Do not be afraid. Go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee. There they will see me.
The women are the first witnesses and the first messengers of the resurrection. And their task is to go and tell the others, and with them to return to Galilee.
Jesus is risen from the dead, but there is no suggestion that he has returned to resume life as before. This is a reality. He was dead. Now is alive, but in a new way. There is a different kind of life awaiting the disciples as well.
What experiences have you had of being given a new life after some part of you had died? What was different about the new life?
The significance of Galilee:
It is a place of refuge, away from the dangers of Jerusalem.
It is where their ministry with Jesus began.
It is where Jesus first taught and healed and nourished people, and began a movement based in love.
In this new life, they were to go back to their roots, back to the teachings, back to all that he had taught them. It is the gospel writer's invitation to us to return to the beginning of his gospel and read again and again and again all that we find there, and to live our lives by the light and love of Jesus.
In resurrection, we do not go back to life as it was before. But all that was in our life before death is still available to us in a new way. Life is changed, not ended.
Final thoughts:
Resurrection is not a one-time event for us. It is a journey of awakenings and experiences, a process of moving from death to life, from grief to joy, from fear to courage.
In some schools of Christian thought, the whole point of Jesus’ life was to come and die for us, as a necessary sacrifice for our sin, so that we might gain eternal life that would otherwise be denied us, provided that we believe in him.
Yes, Jesus died for us. But he also lived for us. He came to show us how to live and how to love. In going back to Galilee, the disciples are reminded to hold onto everything he taught them there, who he was to them when he was alive.
His teachings, his way of love while he lived is as important as his death. His rising from death is a validation of all that he taught and who he was while he lived.
When they arrived in Galilee, according to Matthew, they had one final experience of Jesus, giving them what we know as the Great Commission:
Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.
The same promise he gives to us, as we live the mystery of faith, and walk –as boldly as we are able – the journey of resurrection.
Jesus lived to show us how to love. He died to forgive us for the ways we fail to love. He is risen to assure us that there is life after death, and to be with us always. His is not a passive presence, but an active one. He is here to inspire, to guide, to forgive, and empower us to love as he loves and forgive as he forgives.
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