Not Among These Bones

Sermon prepared for Messiah Lutheran Church, Auburn WA
by Pastor Greg Kaurin
Easter Sunday, April 4, 2010

Text: John 20:1-18

Not Among These Bones

Last Friday the message was about Jesus' atonement; we talked about why the blood, why the sacrifice, and how God was joined in that moment with sufferers and sinners. This morning is about the rising, the declaration of his victory. And it tells us very clearly where to look to find Christ.

If you were here on Friday noon or evening, you've already heard this little story, but it fits Easter, too. Our two boys, Mac and Trevan, go to a Christian preschool/daycare, and they've been talking about Easter. So, less than a week ago, before bedtime, Mac, who's a little over 5, was telling me about his day, and he gave me his permission to tell you; in fact, he just about commanded it.

He said to me, "Dad, did you know: Jesus died for our sins?"

"Well, I think I heard something about that. Can you tell me more?"

"Yes, and after that, they went to his grave, and it was empty, ...because he was alive."

"That's great news, Mac!"

"Yes... And, Dad, you need to tell the people at church!"

"You're right, Mac, I probably should.”

But Mac was still looking at me as if I wasn't really getting the importance of what he was telling me. Finally, he added, "Because the other stuff you've been telling them is all wrong!"

Mac is right about the central message, and depending on how I say it, or how it's heard, the rest could all be just words, old bones, relics and myths from almost 2000 years ago. For many of you, you're here this morning because you believe that there is something to this dying and rising that's worth celebrating and singing. Others of you have your doubts, and everything in between. And all of us are welcome, just like the morning in our gospel, at Jesus' tomb.

The gospels tell us how Jesus' body was taken down and quickly wrapped and put in a tomb just before sundown on Friday when Sabbath began, and that the women watched and saw where they laid him. Then, before the first rays of light, Mary of Magdala, along with Joanna, Salome, and Mary the mother of James, and the Bible says several other women, all went together to finish caring for Jesus' body.

They went expecting to find his body where he was laid, in the tomb of a cemetery, among the bones. Instead, they find the tomb open. The other gospels, Matthew, Mark and Luke, speak of angels, men in brilliant cloth, asking them, "Why are you looking among the dead for someone who is alive? He's going ahead; you'll find him in Galilee. Go and tell the others."

And the reactions are across the board. Mark tells us that the women, or at least most of them were too afraid to say anything. Luke tells us that when Mary Magdalene and the others do tell the eleven, most dismiss them as a bunch of wishful women, an idle tale.

In John's gospel when Mary tells Peter and the other disciple, she didn't mention any angelic appearances. She herself did not believe, but was still convinced that someone had taken Jesus' body. Out from the eleven, our gospel tells us Peter and the other disciple, most of us assume John, ran to the tomb to see for themselves. John got there first and Peter barged past into the tomb. Finally, John joined him, saw the folded cloths, and in some small way, began to believe.

My point is that, based on the empty tomb and maybe even visions of angelic men, reactions were across the board, and for the most part, doubtful. Some were upset and angry that another injustice had been done to their rabbi, his body taken. Where; why? It belonged where they left it, among the dead.

Mary Magdalene was so sure of his death, even when Jesus stood right in front of her, she assumed he must be the gardener. "Tell me where you put him, so I can get his body, and put it back where it belongs." Here is the scene in the window to my right when Jesus said her name, and by the sound of his voice, she finally recognized her beloved Rabbi.

There are at least six Marys in the New Testament, and it's easy to confuse them: 1) Mary the mother of Jesus, 2) Mary of Magdala, 3) Mary the mother of James and Joset, who may also have been the wife of Clopas. There were two more Marys in 4) the book of Acts and 5) the letters of Paul.

Pr. Jon and I were batting this back and forth, and it occured to us that one of the Marys we most expected isn't in the list. And if she had been there, she would have been mentioned. 6) Mary, the sister of Martha and Lazareth. Neither she nor her sister are mentioned, and they lived in Bethany, a little more than two miles from the outskirts of Jerusalem where Jesus was killed and buried.

Some time before, Jesus ate at their house when Mary sat at as his feet listening to Jesus teach and leaving her sister, Martha doing all the work. Then, Jesus called Lazarus, their brother out of his tomb and back to life. And just a few days before he was arrested, Jesus was again in their house when Mary came in and anointed Jesus feet with ointment, rubbing his feet with her hair.

It's interesting that this Mary, so close to Jesus, and living so nearby to all this, goes unmentioned, neither at the crucifixion nor among the women who went to his tomb. Maybe she was just too heartbroken, and couldn't bear to be at his crucifixion, or to look at or touch his broken body.

But Pr. Jon and I were wondering if maybe, perhaps, as a witness to what Jesus did for her brother, and having heard his words, maybe because of all this, Mary already knew better than to look for Jesus among the dead, among bones. Not that she would've known exactly how or when, but that she now had a deeper faith, like Abraham's, that trusted the words Jesus had said at Lazarus' tomb, John 11:25, when Jesus said, "I am the resurrection and the life."

Jesus was not and is not found among the bones. Jesus comes in living form, sometimes with healing, and sometimes with wounds. He may be in the form of a gardener, or a teacher, a spouse, a child with a skinned knee, a cousin or friend, or a stranger, just someone reaching out to you. I hope you can listen and see a little clearer that it is more than a stranger or friend in front of you, but Jesus, who comes in the continued flesh of God through people. He is a God of the living.

Like the women and men who first heard about an empty tomb on that first Easter, it is no different today, all the same spectrum of disbelief, doubt, hope and faith. If you are wondering, or hoping or feeling it slip away, just think: if what we are saying is at all true, then it is probably worth looking into, deeper than what we can do on Easter morning. Come and listen, you might come to the ALPHA classes that are starting a week after this Tuesday night. That's exactly what ALPHA is for, to listen and question and consider for yourself whether this is an idle tale, or worth looking into.

For others of you, I pray this Easter day is like a brand new resurrection, with new life, and new eyesight to look at your world to discover that once again, Jesus is Lord over death. He is alive, and running ahead of us, to all the places he wants us to meet him and to find him.

6:30 AM this morning, Pr. Jon met in Mt. View Cemetery, overlooking Auburn, reading these same words. And the same message could be said there about Jesus. Where is Jesus? Not here among the bones, but look for him, he's gone ahead of you, down in the valley, in the town among the living, back among those who need him. Look for Jesus there, in the living.

“God of all grace, you sent your Son, our Savior Jesus Christ, to bring life and immortality to light. We give you thanks because by his death Jesus destroyed the power of death and by his resurrection has opened the kingdom of heaven to all believers. Make us certain that because he lives we shall live also, and that neither death nor life, nor things present nor things to come shall be able to separate us from your love which is in Christ Jesus our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.” – prayer from “Burial of the Dead,” Lutheran Book of Worship, ©1978.