Easter A, April 20, 2014, The Rev. Pamela L. Wertz

O God of mystery and mischief, grant us the wisdom and the courage to seek always and everywhere after truth, come when it may and cost what it will.

I love that children’s story of The Three Trees and I read it every Easter. One of my favorite Emmanuel Church Easter memories is from a few years ago when a young girl, urged by her mother to come forward for the story, plodded up the aisle scowling and saying, “I’ve already heard this story before!” Maybe some of you feel like that too sometimes!

Happy Easter everyone! You look very beautiful! Welcome to those of you who are here for the first time; welcome to those of you who have been here more times than you can count, and everyone in between! Thank you for coming to Emmanuel Church to begin your celebration of the Great Fifty Days of Easter. You honor all of us by your presence this morning, whether you are here because you love this holiday, or you are here because someone you love loves this holiday, or maybe you’re here for a sadder reason. Maybe some of you don’t even quite know the reason you’re here. I’m grateful that you’re here too! My Easter hope is that, whether you skipped or stumbled into this refuge – this sanctuary, you will leave here feeling a little better than when you arrived.

Every Easter, we tell the same stories and sing the same songs, and those stories and songs are full of contradictions and mischief! You might know that all four Gospels tell different and contradictory stories of what happened after Jesus was crucified and laid in a tomb. All the Gospels tell that women first witnessed the emptiness of the tomb. Different women are named in different Gospels, although all agree that Mary Magdalene was there and Jesus’ body was not.

According to the Gospel of John, Mary had gone to the tomb to weep alone. There was nothing else to do because Joseph of Arimathea had already extravagantly anointed Jesus with a hundred pounds of myrrh and aloes provided by Nicodemus, and wrapped his body in linen. Mary went to the tomb to weep and found that the stone covering the entrance to the tomb had been rolled away. She ran to get Peter and the beloved disciple who, in turn, raced back to the tomb and they saw that the tomb really was empty. The Gospel of John says a curious thing here: they believed but they did not understand – or know – or comprehend. So whatever believing is, according to John, it is distinct from understanding or knowing or comprehending. This Gospel also says that Peter and the beloved disciple, of all people, these two did not yet understand that Jesus must rise from the dead. Here we have Simon Peter and the beloved disciple portrayed as agnostic believers. And then something that always amazes me. They returned to their homes.

But Mary stayed weeping outside the tomb. The empty tomb was nothing like good news for her. Rather, it added insult to her broken heart. She just wanted to know where Jesus’ body was when she saw others sitting in the tomb. “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him,” she said. Still weeping, she saw the risen Lord and did not know that it was Jesus. She saw and she still did not know – she did not recognize. Mary is portrayed here as an agnostic seer! She persisted in asking her question.

What she hears through her sobbing is the Risen Lord calling her by name. What she hears is an assurance that death has not had the last word. What she hears is that Jesus is going up, growing up, arising, ascending into the Holy One – “my father and your father,” he says, “my God and your God,” One and the same. Mary hears the Risen Lord say to her, “Go and tell the others.” They are in their homes trying to figure out how to put the pieces back together. Go and help them realize that they are the pieces.

You know, Mary Magdalene was present at the crucifixion, at the burial, and at the empty tomb. She was the first to see the stone rolled away, the first to see the Risen Lord, and the first to tell the others that Jesus was with God and in God. Mary was the first to testify to the power and the possibility of the empty tomb. She was the first apostle – the first one sent to tell (which is what apostle means). St. Augustine, way back in the 4^th century, called her “the apostle to the apostles.” This whole thing starts with one woman’s testimony according to the Gospel of John.

Exactly one year ago, I was in northern Israel, on sabbatical, searching for Mary Magdalene’s footprints, as my father-in-law fondly called my quest. The first Sunday that I was there, I went to church and was invited by my priest colleague to offer a greeting to the congregation in the service. Because Sunday is a work day in Israel, the people in the pews on a Sunday morning are either retired, those who care for children, or who are unemployed – mostly women. It’s also one of those parts of the church that does not ordain women (yet). So I wore my clerical collar to show the congregation what a woman priest can look like. I told them that I was exploring legends of Mary Magdalene, whom I consider a prophet and apostle. The women gasped when my colleague translated that for them. One blurted out, “those are dangerous words here!” I laughed and responded, “they’re dangerous words in Boston too!”

Maybe you know that according to ancient legend, Mary Magdalene was a woman of considerable wealth, rank, and power. (The Gospels describe her as a woman of means.) So much so that there is a story that after Jesus’ crucifixion, she traveled to Rome for an audience with Caesar to complain about Pontius Pilate’s cruelty and to insist that Pilate be removed from office. (Pilate was eventually removed from office due to his notorious brutality.) According to the story, in her dinner conversation with Caesar, Mary Magdalene said that Jesus had been raised from the dead. Caesar replied that someone could not be raised from the dead any more than the white egg that Mary was holding could turn red in her hand. Immediately, the egg turned red. This is why Orthodox icons often depict Mary Magdalene holding a red egg. It’s a story of a dangerous woman speaking truth to power and being vindicated by God!

What I want you to hear is that we can have different and contradictory stories when it comes to our true experiences of the mystery and mischief and Love of the Divine. The contradictions can all be Gospel truths – included in our official scriptures or told as folk tales. The contradictions can be within and between our communities, within our families, and most importantly perhaps, within our own selves. “The Gospel Truth” is that not only are contradictions survivable – some even help us thrive!

What I want you to hear is that Biblically speaking, believing is not the same as understanding; it’s definitely not the same as knowing or proving. Seeing is not the same as recognizing. I’m making a case here for the fine and long tradition of faithful agnosticism in Christianity that goes all the way back to the Gospels themselves.

What I most want you to hear is your own name being called by the Risen Lord – even if you don’t recognize him. I want you to hear your own name being called through your disappointments and devastations, your sadnesses and despairs, your humiliations and losses, the changes and chances of your life, through the violences and degradations you have experienced and the hells to which you have descended. Hear that you are called by name to participate in God’s lavish gifts of Life and Love. Hear that violence and terror and death have not had the last word – not in last year’s marathon, not in the daily traumas and losses that devastate our city, our nation, and beyond. “Betrayal and failure are not the last words. No. Each of them are left like rags in a tomb.” [1] Hear that you are to go and tell the others that these are the last words: compassion, kindness, humility, patience, bearing with one another and forgiving; loving and being thankful. The everlasting Love of God is the last word. That’s what Mary Magdalene means when she proclaims, “I have seen the Lord!”

Easter lasts for fifty days so you have plenty of time to marvel at the miracle of love and life, especially wherever and whenever evidence seems to point in the other direction. The message of Easter is “not so fast!” Death doesn’t win after all. Life is greater than death. Love is more powerful than fear or hate. Depending on what’s going on in your life right now, this might be hard to believe.

Thinking about things that are hard to believe made me think about the Nicene Creed, because as soon as this homily is over, we’re going to sing the Nicene Creed. These ancient words may not be what we’d come up with today if we were to spend some time as a group, building consensus about what we believe – but we value tradition – and we know how hard it is to get everyone to agree – so, as a church, we tend to stick with these ancient words even though we all think that we could do better.

The first thing I want to point out is the word WE. We believe. If believe is hard to sing, try singing belove because that’s what it means. After a long list of ancient “we believes” (or “we beloves”) – almost at the very end, the second to the last line – you’ll find the “so what” part of the creed: a statement of what we DO. We look. What do we look for? We look for the resurrection of the dead. Notice that it doesn’t say “we find” or “we believe” – it says “we look.” We look for evidence that death doesn’t win after all; that life is greater than death; that love is more powerful than fear or hate. And we look for the life of the world to come – that is – a better world – while we’re all still living. We look for bits of heaven on earth. We look for alternatives to a future that seems fated or doomed by the momentum of the powers and principalities. We look for ways that God or Love, who makes all things new, will transform the world – including you and me. That’s what we do. We look.

So I invite you to spend some time these next fifty days looking for the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. Look everywhere – especially where you least expect to find it – and I promise you this: the stone has been rolled away; the tomb is empty. Jesus is not there. He has gone ahead of you. God has made it so. Go and tell the others. Alleluia! Christ is risen. (The Lord is Risen Indeed. Alleluia!)

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