Easter
Mark 16: 1-8
April 11, 1993
We begin our thoughts this morning by setting the stage- putting the Easter event into a context. To do this, we must start with Friday. The Friday before, when Jesus was put to death on a cross. It is through the lens of the crucifixion that we can fully understand Easter.
So let’s backtrack for a moment– and try to imagine what the death of Jesus on Friday signified to his followers. It meant the death of hope– the cessation of a relationship– the termination of a long-cherished dream– the end of the road.
After Friday, everything good had turned bad– everything that had been planned, expected, and anticipated turned to dust. So what do you do when that happens? What do you do when suddenly you’re at the end of your rope and somebody or something cuts the string? Where do you turn?
On the next day, on Saturday, we find the friends of Jesus collecting spices. According to Jewish law, even those closest to Jesus were not permitted to travel the short distance to the tomb. It was the Sabbath. So they did the next best thing. They spent Saturday preparing to make the journey. They gathered fragrances- herbs, spices, flowers. But not simply as a decoration. Although I’m sure that was part of their motivation. The main reason was that spices were used to keep dead bodies from smelling. in those days around the Middle East, they didn’t use embalming fluids. And, as the body decomposed in the hot, dry climate, it quickly began to stink. Under the circumstances, the best thing they could do on Saturday was to collect sweet-smelling perfumes to cover over the fetid aroma of decay.
How natural. . . How typical. When the worst happens, we usually try to do the best thing possible under the circumstances. And that’s usually to cover over the stench.
Haven’t you said to yourselves hundreds of times: “Since you can’t change what happened, at least you can make it appear less odoriferous a little sweeter? I believe it’s called ‘putting on a good face in tragedy. We may not be able to look like a rose, but at least we can cover over the stench. Americans buy more antiperspirants than all the other people on earth -by a hundredfold. We’re taught at an early age that the best thing to do is to cover over the worst odors and the worst problems.
Thus, it seems so American — so natural — to read in our Gospel that on Sunday these women were trudging to the tomb with their spices. They were going to disguise the harsh reality of death. When they arrived at the tomb, they couldn’t believe their eyes. The huge stone, which had blocked the entrance to keep grave robbers away, had been moved. And when they looked in, the dead body was no longer there. The women were informed that Jesus was alive, and this was the work of God
You see- while the dejected followers were busy collecting jars of perfume to cover over the stench- God was busy rolling away the stone and breathing new life into a dead body. While the friends of Jesus were working on the symptoms. God was attacking the problems at their root. As we read, they were astonished. This was beyond their comprehension. They couldn’t believe their eyes. An enormous rock moved- a dead body, not alive. It was unprecedented. is it any wonder that they were terrified?
When something is beyond our imagination. we’re fearful and we tend to reject it– out of hand. If something doesn’t fit into any known category, we’re at the very least cynical -and at the worst, afraid.
It’s true- most of us would rather stick with known disasters than explore unknown solutions. We would rather learn to cope. adjust– covering over the scent of our failures– rather than risk new and uncharted possibilities.
There is an ancient legend about Easter: God moves the stone. And the Risen Christ goes off in search of Adam and Eve. The first thing Jesus does is to go seek the lost. He descends to the place where humanity crouches in despair and ugliness. He goes right into the jaws of hell. And the legend has it that Christ calls out to Adam and Eve: ” I am your God and I will take you out of this place.: There is no reply.
Then Jesus cries out: “Come follow me and we’ll go from death to life. The heavenly kingdom, which existed before the ages, awaits you
Thanks, but no thanks, ” Adam responds. “We don’t believe you. ” And besides, ” Eve says. “We’ve made the place quite comfortable. :
No– thank you very much– I prefer hell. That’s us- the ancient legend is about us, when we choose the known. the status quo. mediocrity- the legend is about you and me– who have learned to adjust. to be comfortable, to make do- even in hell.
The legend is another way to spell out our American mythology. Our American mythology is that we can cover over our individual hell. We can make the stench of death go away by using more perfume and deodorants, by relieving symptoms, and ignoring problems. As American Christians, we would rather cling to hell than go on to the unknown heavens. We would rather adjust to what is than step out to what could be.
And then comes Easter– that magnificent day when we learn that God moved the stone and breathed new life into a dead body. And this is a message to each one of us. It’s not an easy message for us to hear. (But what message is ever easy?) It’s a message asking you to trust God. To believe that God can come- even into your own particular hell -and reach out to you in new ways.
It’s not plausible that God can breathe new life into dead bodies. But what do you want to hear? — a plausible lie or an implausible truth?
The message of Easter is well expressed in the ancient prayer: “Let the whole world see and know — that things which were cast down are being raised up. And things which had grown old are being made new.
Aren’t you tired of your individual hell? Sweet-smelling as it may be? Listen — hear — remember — He is risen — Alleluia