Sermon by Rev. Henley March 23, 2008
Jesus and his followers went to Jerusalem for Passover. There he cleared the Temple of the moneychangers and those who sold the animals for sacrifice. He said the Temple would be torn down, and he could rebuild the Temple in three days. Jesus scared the leaders of Jerusalem with his prophecies. His followers scared the leaders of Jerusalem with their talk of Jesus as king. The leaders began to plot his death.
Jesus celebrates Passover with his disciples. Washes their feet, shares bread, and wine with them, and then predicts the betrayal. He also tells them they will desert him at the end. Then he goes to Gethsemane and prays.
One does betray him. It is in the garden Jesus is arrested. Eleven desert him. He is crucified on Friday. Peter denies him. The women stay with him until the end. Joseph of Arimathea pleads with Pilate for his body, and he is buried in Joseph’s tomb. Everything happened just as Jesus had predicted in those last few weeks.
On Sunday morning, after the crucifixion, on the first day of the week, three grief-stricken women rise early.
They cannot sleep and are restless. Not only has their prophet and rabbi died, he was crucified, the worst death, the most painful death, and a shameful and disgraceful death.
If you have had a loved one die, someone with whom you were very close, you will know somewhat how these three women felt. Devastated, completely lost, numb, and walking around in a fog. They were unable to believe the events of the past few days, even though they had lived through them.
They probably sat together talking for a while, reliving the events of the past few days, or perhaps not. Maybe it was less painful to talk of the children quietly sleeping around them. Or maybe how they would go on, continue the work of their rabbi. Or perhaps they could only summon the strength to speak of the coming day. We could recognize this conversation, talk about anything to take your mind off the reality and the pain.
And then, suddenly, it came to them, collectively, that they must go see the tomb—the tomb of their Jesus. So they wrapped shawls around themselves, and they set off, in the quiet, early morning to see the tomb; to face the reality of their fears and sadness.
Who were these women Mary Magdalene, “the other Mary” and Salome?
Mary Magdalene, the most famous of Jesus’ women disciples. She has been the one woman who is most written about outside of Jesus’ mother Mary. And she is only mentioned a few times in the New Testament. The scholarly reference Women in Scriptures (Editor Carol Meyers, 2000) tells us that she was probably healed by Jesus and became one of his faithful followers.
This “other Mary” was most likely the mother of James and Joses, cousins and followers of Jesus. She is not named as a disciple or follower of Jesus in the New Testament; however, it would make perfect sense for her to be in Jerusalem at this time with her family. Everyone who could travel went to Jerusalem at Passover. This other Mary, was as close to Jesus as she was close to her own sons. She was right there, along with the other women, who stayed until the end.
And Salome? We only know that she was one of the many women who had been followers of Jesus in Galilee. According to Women in Scriptures, Salome was one of the many faithful women who had ministered to or served Jesus in Galilee.
Three women, walking to a reality for which they were not prepared; no matter what Jesus’ words to them over the life of their ministry together.
Before we get to the tomb, let us consider these women and their times. Let us consider the meaning of Jesus’ ministry for them.
They lived in a tribal culture in which women were generally considered “less than” men. They had no purpose in life but to obey, first their fathers and then their husbands. They were property, possessions, and of little value.
The meaning of Jesus’ ministry for these three women had to lie in Jesus enlightened views of culture and religion.
It is ironic, that this revolutionary peasant had such an enlightened view of people and their dignity,
his roots were in a religion that is considered patriarchal, hierarchical, and exclusive,
and
his story is told by patriarchal writers, yet his egalitarian views are very clear.
Theologians agree that New Testament claims to a discipleship of twelve are a literary device that connects Jesus’ movement to the twelve tribes of Israel. There were, they say many more disciples than just twelve, and women were part of this expanded discipleship.
And it is revolutionary, considering two thousand years ago, women found a way to be disciples. The miraculous nature of this, if pondered upon long enough, would give us even more insight into Jesus’ ministry—that ministry that is between the lines or left out of the Gospels.
Jesus ministry touches these women, because they are “less than,” subjugated. And it is the same meaning for all his followers, men or women, because those who followed him were not the wealthy or powerful. They were on the margins of an oppressive Roman culture. What did Jesus say to them?
He said, love, love God with all your heart and your neighbor as yourself.
He said forgive each other. Forgive your brother not seven times, but seventy-seven times (Matt 18:21) and to turn the other cheek.
He said reconcile when you disagree – “… when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive him, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you…” Mark 11:15
He said, be honest with yourself and your neighbor. Why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye? Or how can you say to your neighbor, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ while a log is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye… Matthew 7:3
All these things Jesus said in a time when very few people believed in love and forgiveness and reconciliation. And above everything else, Jesus made them believe things could change, showed them a way to hope for a better life.
That is why, the three women walking to the tomb that early Sunday morning were devastated. Everything seemed hopeless. They might as well have been dead themselves, because without the hope that Jesus brought, there was no hope.
And then, they see the tomb, the stone rolled away, and an angel saying, he is not here but alive. See for yourself, he is gone. What could have been going through their minds? In a world where little information is given to a woman, an angel, nevertheless, gives them the good news of Jesus!
Go tell the disciples, tell them to meet Jesus in Galilee. So they hurried away, with fear and great joy. Suddenly Jesus met them on the road, he came to them, women, and they worshiped him. Do not be afraid, Jesus said. Go tell my “brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”
We look at this story and see something very special, very unusual going on. First, and foremost, it is the women who carry the story. Perhaps that makes it more profound, for the authors of the Gospels are decidedly patriarchal, and to have women carry the story of the resurrection means that the women were so involved, so prominent, so much in the forefront, that there is no way to negate their contributions or hide them from us.
Even more than this, these women are symbolic of all women and men on the margins. They represent everyone to whom Jesus came to minister—all those who are “less than,” the sick, the hungry, the thirsty, the marginalized.
The women hurried away with the good news and they saw Jesus, and they worshipped him, and they took the news back to the disciples to meet Jesus in Galilee.
Since that first Easter, women and men have been proclaiming the good news of Jesus. And for over two thousand years, there have been all kinds of suppositions and speculations about Jesus who became Christ that day. The truth is, women and men in their brokenness, their need, and their desire for a better life gave us Easter, and hope, and Christ.
We cannot look at the empty tomb, and hear the good news of the resurrection without accepting that there was a man once, who gave his life for that indescribable, indefinable concept of hope. And women and men loved him so dearly that they could not, would not, let him die.
Just as you and I, and millions of others, will not let Jesus die. We need him, just as the oppressed, the wounded, the broken of the first century in Galilee and Palestine and Jerusalem needed him.
We have lives that are broken. We are not always honest with ourselves or with others. We look in the mirror sometimes and ask, “What is there about my life that is good?” Sometimes, we wonder how we get through a day without someone discovering how unworthy or unprepared we really are.
And besides not being “perfect,” or wholly healthy, life happens to us. Friends move away, spouses lose their jobs, our child develops leukemia.
We live in a culture that denigrates us if we are different. We come out to our family after years of anguish over whether we should tell them we are gay, because the world wants us to anguish over our difference.
In another universe far from here, I knew a man who began sexual transformation. His wife could not accept it. She hated him because he made the decision. She made his life miserable, keeping the children away from him, using lawyers to tie up their assets, anything she could do she did. And why? To hide her disappointment, her loss, her sadness.
If she had lovingly accepted the change, what would her family, her co-workers, or her circle of friends think of her?
We live in a society that takes every opportunity to judge us by an impossible standard of perfection. We live in a world that does not know how to ensure freedom and justice for all its inhabitants, that sells her daughters and sons to slavery, and sends its youth to war.
We cannot look at the empty tomb, and hear the good news of the resurrection without accepting that there was a man once, who gave his life for that indescribable, indefinable concept of hope. And women and men loved him so dearly that they could not, would not, let him die.
Just as you and I, and millions of others, will not let Jesus die. We need him, just as the oppressed, the wounded, the broken of the first century in Galilee and Palestine and Jerusalem needed him.
There is no other day in the year like this, when we celebrate hope. Since humankind began our story thousands of years ago, we have seen spring as the time of renewal. Spring is the time to celebrate a life given for hope. Jesus died, Christ arose. Why? Because we need hope; we cannot live without hope.
Amen and blessed be.
The Readings
Opening Words
“Imagine Their Surprise” by Alicia Roxanne Forde, minister, Namaqua Unitarian Universalist Congregation. Loveland, Colorado, found in the UUA Quest Newsletter, March 2008
Imagine their surprise….
Who will roll away the stone for us….
Can you see them?
Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James,
and Salome with spices for his body.
A body once vibrant with life, once filled
with passion for a radical kind of justice,
teaching the promise of the kingdom here on earth.
What were they thinking?
Did they believe that he would still be there
after three days and three nights?
Lying still, breathless…passionless?
Who will roll away the stone for us…
What did they believe when they saw that young man dressed in white…
Calm, steady at the entrance of an empty tomb?
And what did he say?
Do not be alarmed:
you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth,
who was crucified.
He has been raised:
he is not here.
…go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you.
Do not be alarmed,
he is not here.
And what did they do?
Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome?
Reading 1
“Easter is Breaking” by Kathleen Rolenz, Co-Minister West Shore UU Church in Rocky River, Ohio, found in the UUA Quest Newsletter, March 2008
Somewhere across the world,
Ester is breaking.
Not the Easter we may think of,
With arms upraised and “He is risen,” echoing from canyons,
But a much quieter,
Less dramatic Easter.
Somewhere in the world—perhaps not this day, but someday soon,
A woman and a man rise from their beds,
Shaking the sleep from their eyes,
And find their children already awake and preparing for their morning prayers.
There has been no gunfire,
No drug wars,
No yelling or shouting or screaming,
Only the quiet of the night and the peace of silence around them.
And somewhere in the world,
Perhaps not this morning, but soon,
Very soon, a soldier is packing his duffle bag,
Has emptied out all his bullets,
Is changing into civilian clothes,
And is coming home,
For peace has long been established,
And there is no need for his presence.
And somewhere in the world,
Easter dawn breaks over the earth,
Not only on this day,
But every day,
And the familiar pulse in our veins throbs of “peace, peace, peace.”
Reading II
Matthew 28:1-10
1 After the Sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb.
2 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.
3 His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow.
4 For fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men.
5 But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified.
6 He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay.
7 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 my message to you.”
8 So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy, and ran to tell his disciples.
9 Suddenly Jesus met them and said, “Greetings!” And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshiped him.
10 Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.