Dr. J. Lawrence Cuthill

April 12, 2009

Winter Park Presbyterian

When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint him. And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. They had been saying to one another, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?” When they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back. As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed. But he said to them, “Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he gold you.” So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.

When the Sabbath was over…

When they could resume all of life’s duties

And not risk offending the strictly religious mores of their community . . .

three women purchased the spices used at the time of burial, and made their weary, woeful way early on the first day after for it was also the practice to have burial as soon as possible after death.

En route there wasn’t the usual chatty conversation, but one practical consideration had to be discussed: “Who will roll away the heavy stone that blocks the entrance to the tomb?” It must have occurred to them just before they arrived, because we’re told they looked up and discovered the anticipated problem was already solved; the huge stone was rolled back.

No doubt perplexed, they entered the tomb and met him -- not Jesus --another being whom they took to be an angel. Recall that the Greek word for angel is angelos, which is translated messenger. The fact that he was dressed in a white robe supports that conclusion as does the role he plays: he delivers a message.

Their perplexity quickly became alarm. But he said to them, as angels typically do when they have unannounced appointments with humans, “Don’t be afraid”. And then to

let them know he knew why they were there and as a preface to why he was there, he continued, “You are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified… He has risen, He is not here. See for yourself. The place he was laid is vacant.” And then the angel issued some instructions to those dumbfounded ladies. “Go tell his disciples and Peter” (who more than others need to hear this news) “that Jesus, is going ahead of you to Galilee and there you will see him just as He told you.”

What happened next may be described by those interesting hyphenated English words “pell-mell” or “helter-skelter”, frantic, disorderly haste, but not actions which fulfilled the angel’s directive. In such a state of “terror and amazement” they bolted and “told no one because they were afraid.” Now obviously they eventually found their voices and told their story or Mark’s Gospel could not have been written.

What follows -- or doesn’t follow -- in the text has puzzled scholars for centuries. You see, the most reliable manuscripts of Mark’s Gospel stop there. Some have theorized that the scroll of Mark became worn, the end frayed and the last lines lost, and that later, longer and appropriate endings were added, as you will see in many of your Bibles with explanations in footnotes. There are two versions, two added-on endings. My question is, does it bother you that there is no definite, conclusive finish, or can you be o.k. with the main thought securely established – “He is not here. He has been raised”? Regardless, what we have is an open- ended ness; a continuation, strongly implied, a never ending story. One could say Mark has no real ending; It has, instead, the feel of a new chapter, of a new beginning.

For those women, however, who had came prepared to put a proverbial period at the end of the sentence, it was extremely upsetting. They were saddened that they had to do the task of putting Him finally to rest but it appears they would have preferred that, to what they found -- or didn’t find. We like nice, neat endings that tie things up and put a bow on them so that they fit our frame of reference. If it’s a novel or a movie, tie all the pieces together at the end so that it makes sense, some version of “They lived happily ever after” would do nicely. If it’s preaching, give us a little boost, a smile, a warm feeling and then we can get on with our lives as they were.

Fresh out of seminary, a young man preached his first sermon not only before his new church, but also in front of his mother-in-law who never thought her daughter made the best choice of mates. She was a woman of few words and rather blunt. Over Sunday dinner following church, the young preacher asked his mother-in-law what she thought of the sermon. A silence settled quickly over the gathering so everyone could hear her response. “Well, I thought you had a good sermon, actually several good sermons. In fact, I thought you missed about three good stopping places in your sermon.”

As much as we like nice packaged endings, the trouble is, so many stories in the Bible are open-ended.

If they ended properly, as we would expect, they are close-ended and the curtains drop, the lights come up… and the fire goes out. In John’s account of Jesus’ resurrection, the next scene has the disciples back at work, back in their familiar work-a-day routine fishing…and not doing very well at that. It’s common advice after suffering a disappointment, a bereavement, to get back to work. Get busy. Get over it. Isn’t it true all good things must come to an end? Isn’t that life in a closed-ended world: a series of endings? Hard to even enjoy the good things if you’re saying to yourself, “This vacation will be over in three days.” “This relationship won’t last.” We sabotage ourselves. The fire goes out. Even the venerable Albert Schweitzer was quoted as saying, “In Everyone’s life, at some time, the fire goes out.”

In the movie American Beauty Lester Burnham (Kevin Spacey’s character) says, “I’ve lost something. I’m not exactly sure why, but I know I didn’t always feel sedated.” Mark says that the gospel story isn’t over. Who knows where it will lead, but the story isn’t over… no matter how hard human nature tries to extinguish it.

For those women and their counterparts, the disciples, the story was over until their sadness and preparations to return to business as usual, were shockingly interrupted. Stop the funeral. Dry your eyes. We don’t have a body. This has never been heard of. What are we gonna do now?

Start over but not in the same ol’ ruts… not the same lifeless, loveless dull routine!

Catholic priest Anthony de Mello writes, “If worship isn’t leading to the fire; if adoration isn’t leading to love; if honesty isn’t leading to a clearer perception of reality, if service isn’t leading to life; of what use in religion except to create more division, more fanaticism; more meaningless ritual?” We suffer from too much religion and too little awareness, compassion and love. To whom shall we turn? To the One who has returned... and now we start anew.

In the movie “Walk the Line” Johnny Cash is auditioning for Sam Phillips. And he is playing an uninspired and insipid version of a gospel hymn. And Phillips tells him so.

When Cash demands a reason, Phillips says, “Because I don’t believe you.” Phillips continues, “We’ve already heard that song a hundred times. Just… like… how… you… sing it.

Sam Phillips answers “Bring it home? If you was hit by a truck an you was lying out there in that gutter dying, and you had time to sing ‘one’ song. Huh? One song that people would remember before you’re dirt. One song that would let God know how you felt about your time here on Earth. One song that would sum you up. You tellin’ me that’s the song you’d sing? Or, would you sing somethin’ different. Somethin’ real. Somethin’ ‘you’ felt. Cause I’m telling you right now, that’s the kind of song people want to hear. That’s the kind of song that truly saves people.” And a fire was lit.

Reynolds Price wrote a book that touched many lives. He called the book A Whole New Life. And that is exactly what he describes in the book – a whole new life. It is his account of having cancer, having surgery, ending up paralyzed from the waist down, using a wheelchair. It could be the story of the end of his life, or at least Price’s life as he loved it.

But it is also a story of how Price learned not to be confined to a wheelchair or confined anywhere for that matter. He started over. He wrote some of his best fiction after the time when his life could have been ended. And in the book, Reynolds says that one of the biggest mistakes we can make when we are assaulted by some great trauma or tragedy, is to think that we can brush ourselves off, and go right on living the life that we lived before. The only hope for us is to say, “The old me has died. There must now be a new me, reinvented.”

Take that as the message of this Easter. It ain’t over until God almighty says it’s over. And, in the resurrection, the story continues. God is not done with us yet. In fact from the looks of things there’s much to be done yet, beginning with me… and you…and a broken world. This isn’t the last chapter. Let the fire be rekindled, the song of life sing the new story written. Hallelujah! He is Risen!

AMEN