Sermons

“I Have Seen the Lord!”

Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24; John 20:1-18 – Rev. Rebecca Littlejohn

Vista La Mesa Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), La Mesa, California – April 5, 2015

  Holy God, bless the speaking and the hearing of these words that we might hear your voice and welcome the risen Christ into our lives. We pray in the name of Jesus, Amen.

Are you ready for resurrection? It’s okay if you’re not. The way John tells the story seems almost designed to you ease into it. He reveals just a tiny hint at a time. Mary goes to the tomb. The stone is moved. She runs back. The two disciples come. One looks in. Then the other goes in. Then the first one goes in and believes. Then they leave, but she stays. Then she sees the angels, but they don’t tell her what’s going on, not in this version of the story anyway. Then the supposed gardener appears. It turns out Mary wasn’t ready either.

It can seem ridiculous to us that she doesn’t recognize him. Some have connected this confusion with Paul’s writing about the resurrection body in First Corinthians 15, suggesting that somehow Jesus had a totally different kind of body and didn’t look like he used to. But given how much the gospels insist that he later gave the disciples the opportunity to examine and touch his wounded hands and side, it doesn’t really seem like that’s probably what’s going on. I know that when I’m not seeing something that’s right in front of my face, it’s usually because of something about me, not because the object in question is in disguise. The resurrection story may seem entirely obvious to us, because of we’ve heard it all the way through to the end so many times. But Mary Magdalene’s situation, of not recognizing what was right in front of her – who was right in front of her – is also a familiar one.

Are you ready for resurrection? Are you ready to recognize the new life trying to break into your everyday existence?   The writer Kathleen Norris says that we need to practice Lent at church so that we’ll be ready for it when it arrives in our individual lives. But what if that’s also true for Easter? What if we need to practice recognizing that something entirely new is in front of us, something miraculous that opens up new possibilities and revives us in ways we never could have imagined? What if we need practice at seeing the Risen Christ?

Like Mary Magdalene, we are adept at getting in our own way. Whether it’s grief, or pain, or cynicism, or just stubbornness, we’ve got all sorts of ways to avoid what’s trying to emerge right in front of us. We’ve got all sorts of excuses to ignore what God is doing in our midst. We may be miserable, but it’s a familiar misery, so we’ll just keep on with what we’ve got going, thank you very much. There is so much “me” in our view that we can’t see anything else. There is something to be said for the reality of not being able to see through tears, both literally and figuratively. Whether they’re tears of grief or anger or frustration, so often the baggage of our own lives makes it hard for us to see what’s going on around us, even if it’s new life bursting into bloom. Meanwhile, Jesus is trying to get our attention.

And then there’s that next stage, when we decide we’re open to change, but only on our own terms. It’s hard to ignore someone standing right in front of you, blocking the way, but if we can make them part of our agenda, maybe they won’t be too much of an impediment. “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” This is the Jesus-at-a-distance phase, when we’re open to the Divine doing something, but we tend to assume it will require amazing feats of strength on our part. We’ve started to look around, but we’re still seeing things through the lens of our own personal baggage. I’m guessing this is a common phase for church folks, and probably especially pastors. Mary is still very intent on her goal, but she’s also supremely polite, like church folks are, and willing to do the work, like church folks wish each other were. This sort of spiritual posture might kind of work for Ordinary Time, but it’s altogether insufficient for Easter.

So what does it take to break through? “Hush, hush, somebody’s calling my name!” It turns out that sometimes in order to see, we must first hear. I have discovered over the years that if someone across the room is trying to talk to me, but I don’t have my glasses on, that I’m not going to get a single word they’re saying. I have no idea why that’s the case, but vision and hearing are clearly connected, and if this story is any guide, the connection goes both ways. “Mary!” And the transformation is instantaneous. “Rabbouni!” It’s a funny title, really. The scripture says it means Teacher, but it’s really more like a pet name for a teacher. Not the more formal “Rabbi” but “Rabbouni”. Imagine a middle-school kid calling out “Hey, Teach!” with simultaneous familiar affection and utmost respect.

Are you ready for resurrection? Have you heard your name being called? Have you even taken a moment, to pause in the garden and hush to listen? Sometimes, our minds are so full of our own lives, it’s hard to hear the voice of God calling us into something new. I’m not sure it’s that God prefers to operate by stealth and surprise; it’s just that we make it practically impossible to reach us any other way. Sometimes the Holy Ghost has to jump out from behind the corner and yell “Boo!” in order to get us to drop our own agendas.

All through Lent, we’ve been talking about seeking Jesus, in the various states of suffering described in Matthew 25. No matter how or where we’re seeking Jesus, our goal is what Mary Magdalene experienced. “I have seen the Lord!” she proclaimed to the disciples when she returned home. Are you ready for resurrection? What will it take for your eyes to catch up to what your heart longs for? What sort of surprise do you need to get out of your own way? What do you do when you discover that the person blocking your view is yourself? There’s a reason we have a six-week season of preparation for Easter. Seeing the Risen Christ is harder than you might imagine. And even after six weeks, there’s no guarantee that we’ll be ready. But Jesus is here, whether we’re ready or not. And if we insist on carrying on with our own agendas, he will call us out, by name. Will we take the risk? Will we make the effort to get out of our own way, in order to witness the resurrection? Can we open ourselves to the possibility of change? Will we recognize the Risen Christ in our midst and allow ourselves to be changed by the experience? And if we do, who will we tell? The story does not end with us. Whether we’re ready for resurrection or not, the world is sorely in need of the new life Jesus is offering, the healing, the grace, the comfort and strength. Who will we tell, once our name has been called, once our eyes have been opened?

Someone needs to know that you have seen the Lord. It may be you yourself, or it may be someone else. But don’t deny yourself the opportunity. Hush enough to hear your name being called. Loosen your grasp on your own goals and plans. If the six weeks of Lent weren’t enough to get you to Easter, do not despair, for Easter is also a season. We’ve got seven weeks to warm our hearts in the light of Easter glory. Seven weeks to listen for our names. Seven weeks to set aside our assumptions about how Jesus will appear and be surprised. Are you ready for Easter? Ready or not, Easter is here. May we have eyes to see! Alleluia and Amen!