April 12, Easter Day: First read John 20:1-10
Before the break of another day without Jesus, Mary went to the tomb. Darkness gave cover for a woman alone, and a known associate of an executed criminal. Why did she go?
She probably didn't even know, herself. Why would you go? Why do we go to the funeral home, and stand by the casket? Why do we go back to the cemetery, after the grave has been filled in, before it's all neat and level and green? Because we need to know it's really true. That big, round stone, rolled over the opening of the tomb and sealed with wax, would prove to Mary that Jesus was really dead and gone.
Mary went to say her last goodbye to the man who had lifted her out of a snakepit of demons. She followed him, offering what wealth she had to help him on his way. It was a cruel world, a man's world; but Jesus welcomed her, and loved her as he loved all people.
Mary didn't get her proof. She couldn't weep her last goodbye. The stone wasn't in its place. The body must be gone! Imagine losing your best friend. Then even his grave is torn open! You don't have a focus for your memories of him. Worst of all, you can't find the healing that only comes from natural grief! Gone!
In Mary's day news wasn't news unless it came from a man's lips. So Simon Peter and the mysterious “beloved disciple,” come running into the story and out again just as fast. They leave Mary standing there. This is, after all, a story about Jesus and Mary. Mary stands there, in the garden, for all of us disciples, male and female. Let's stand with her for a moment. They have taken our Lord away, and we don't know where they have put him.
Now read John 20:11-18
“Mary” – “Mariam,” as she heard it. If a man spoke to a woman who was not his wife or his daughter, he would call her “Woman,” if anything at all. Jesus called her by name. Then she recognized him. She knew the voice, the tone, the accent.
Mary stands there, tears of sorrow flowing to tears of joy, the model disciple. Where do we stand? Now we know where our Lord is, and he's calling us by name! He's alive, and he's near, and he knows us!
We can sing Jesus Loves Me and still keep him at arm's length. But “Jesus Knows Me?” As his disciples he knows us inside and out. There's no way to keep him at arm's length then.
For Mary, when voice and name came together, Jesus was alive again! Not just his life, but also hers was new. Where is he, in his risen life? He's this close. When we remember, and seek him, he calls us by name, before we can speak the first syllable of his name.
Mary spoke a name for him, “Rabbouni.” Teacher. But not just a teacher. A life-mapper, who sets the path to fullness of life by word and example. Did Mary try to put her arms around him, hold him tight? He said, “Stop clinging to me.” He told Mary to leave the garden, on her own. Go and tell her friends the good news.
“Stop clinging to me,” he says. Give up the Jesus we think we know, who's wrapped up tight in our certainties and our fears. Release our grip on what we count on always being true. Let God show us something new, more of God's self than we've ever known.
Stand with Mary. Known through and through by One who lives and calls us by name. Tempted to hold on tight for fear of losing Jesus again. Told to let go. To go and tell.
