The resurrection of our Lord: March 20, 2008

Acts 10:34-43

Jeremiah 31:1-6

Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24

Colossians 3:1-4

Matthew 28:1-10 or John 20:1-18

First Reading

Psalm 118 and Jeremiah 31:1-6 call readers to join in song as God's people rise from the hopelessness of severe punishment to live again in the certain embrace of God's love. The new life Jeremiah describes has the look and sound of a wedding celebration. In order for the LORD to claim his bride, however, God must first build ([TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII]) the virgin Israel from the ruins of those who survived the sword. Perhaps Jeremiah has in his mind certain echoes of the creation story we know as Genesis 2, in which God builds ([TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII]) the first woman, quite specifically as a solution to the difficulty of loneliness in the creation, something God seems to understand long before humankind.

In Matthew, we have seen that Jesus rode two donkeys into Jerusalem (21:5-7) and that two Jesus figures play a part in the salvific character of Jesus' death (27:16-25). Now, two women named Mary become the first to learn of the new thing God has done, the first to see the risen Jesus, and the first to serve as the Risen One's witnesses. Upon their arrival at the tomb, these women first experience an earthquake, Matthew's second sign (cf. the first in 27:52-53 and its earlier echo in 21:10) that Jesus' death triggered the eschatological events prophesied in Zech 14:4-5, in which God will kick over the Mount of Olives, Jerusalem's graveyard, shoving it up against Mount Zion, thereby releasing from the tombs a procession of risen saints who come marching into the city. Of all the deaths that ever occurred, this one breaks the graveyard's power and accomplishes resurrection, Matthew teaches.

Like the women who find Jesus' tomb empty in Mark (16:1-8), the two Marys run away afraid, but also like the wise men in Matthew who visited the child Jesus (2:10), they depart with joy. Of all who encounter the risen Christ in any of the canonical Gospels' appearance stories, only these two have no misapprehensions or doubts about the one whom they see, touch, and talk with.

In John's complex empty-tomb scene, one Mary comes to the tomb alone. She will have her meeting with Jesus a bit later, after running a quick errand to alert Peter and that "other disciple." When Mary does meet up with her beloved, she mistakes him for someone else, a common feature of post-resurrection appearance stories in the canonical Gospels. Everyone but Matthew's two Marys can look directly at Jesus and not be certain about whom they see. This common element of the stories contributes to an important piece of teaching that all the Gospels had to offer in response to a hard question nagging the community in those early days. "So, you say this Jesus is risen from the dead. Well, where is he? And how can I see him?"

Answer: The risen Christ is with you--on the road, at the table, or lingering beside you as you grieve in the graveyard, only you may not perceive him.

What does it take to recognize him? Each Gospel has its answer. In John, Jesus himself takes the necessary step to conquer blindness that stems from fear, doubt, or sorrow. In Mary's case, Jesus speaks her name. Many see in that exchange a fulfillment of Jesus' self-prophecy about the genuine sheep of his flock who recognize his voice, follow him, and receive eternal life (10:27-28).

As for the two (Peter and the other disciple) whom Mary alerted to the opened, empty tomb, they play out roles they cannot escape throughout the last half of John's Gospel. They compete, this time in a footrace. Peter always loses, or finds himself one step removed from Jesus as compared to his rival. The same thing happens here. The other disciple not only arrives first at the tomb, he also believes first, even though Peter actually enters the tomb first and studies its abandoned grave clothes. Neither disciple yet knows the scriptures that will unlock this mystery, so they don't act on this experience. Jesus will have to seek them out, too, before any of this makes sense or changes the way they live.

Pastoral Reflection

Nothing here in the wilderness of tombs, where we wrap ourselves in grave clothes, can prepare us for the new life we have as people raised with Christ from death. Nothing except that new life itself, as it is lived by the risen one, the one whom death no longer holds but who never leaves the cemetery until we go with him, free of the fear and disbelief that keeps our hearts and minds tethered firmly to what Paul calls "earth" (Col 3:2).

We know death as intimately as we know our spouses, children, and all the dances we must do in death's strangely compelling company. Indeed, our lives revolve around keeping death at just the right distance from us and from our loved ones. Even our deepest loves would not have the desperately precious sweetness we find in them if we didn't know, somewhere deep within ourselves, that we have each other for such a short season--'til death do us part. We don't truly know love that isn't in large part a secret heartache.