Saturday, April 3, 2021

Gospel for the Great Vigil of Easter Saturday 3 April 2021

Mark 16:1-8        When the sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint Jesus. And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. They had been saying to one another, "Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?" When they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back. As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed. But he said to them, "Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you." So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.


Reflection        It is done. Our friend, our teacher, our Jesus is dead. Now the silence, the empty arms, the excruciating waiting,  waiting for the Sabbath to end, waiting for the, “first day of the week, when the sun has risen,” when at last, along with Mary Magdalene, Mary the Mother of James and Salome there is something for us to do. The Sabbath is over. Finally we can go to the tomb and anoint Jesus’ body with our fragrant spices. But nothing is as it should be.


The stone protecting the entrance to Jesus’ tomb is rolled back. Instead of finding Jesus’ body inside we see a young man dressed in white, sitting there and saying strange things. “Do not be alarmed, you are for looking Jesus who was crucified. He is not here. He has been raised.”  And along with Mary Magdalene, Mary the Mother of James and Salome we ask, “Now what are we supposed to do?”


There ends the gospel according to Mark. It ends as abruptly as it begins. Remember how is begins? “This is the beginning of the good news of Jesus the Christ, the Son of God.” This is the beginning, this is good news.  From the very beginning we know Jesus’ true identity, the Son of God. Nevertheless, all the way through the story, along with the disciples, we forget,  we forget the good news, we forget who Jesus is, and then we remember and begin the story again. We forget, then remember and begin the story again. 


That is the way it is, right down to the wire. We remember who Jesus is at our Thursday evening Passover Supper and then when things get chaotic on Friday we fear for our lives, forget, run away and hide or stand at a safe distance watching Jesus take his last breath. Is it not ironic? The person who in the end “remembers” and announces who Jesus is, is a Roman soldier, one of those who nailed him to the cross?  who boldly proclaims, “Truly this man was God’s Son.” And there we are, beginning again, the beginning of the good news of Jesus the Son of God, who dies on a cross. 


In this very moment we discover the answer to the question, the question that mystified us and the three women just moments ago at Jesus’ vacated cave, “Now what are we supposed to do?” The answer is this. When the Sabbath is over and  “the sun has risen on the first day of the week,” it is time to begin again, to see the new light that has pierced the darkness. It is time for us to go and tell the good news of Jesus the Son of God, the message that has reverberated throughout Mark’s gospel because always, always, always, no matter how dark the darkness, always we begin again.


The incredibly abrupt ending of Mark’s gospel leaves us standing at the empty tomb with Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Salome. But here is the thing.  The empty tomb is actually not empty. In the new light on the first day of the week we and the three women meet a young man in the tomb who tells us precisely what to do. Go, tell and see. Go into the world. Tell the good news of Jesus the Son of God. See how the risen light of Christ will be there with and for you and everyone else in all the world.


Dear people of God, It is up to each one of us to step into the dark and empty places, walk through our fears and tell the tale of our faith so  to continue this story. If we want the world to know and experience the all-inclusive love of God, it is up to us to live it. If we want food for the hungry, freedom for the oppressed and dignity for all people, it is up to us to find our voices and demand it. If we want peace and reconciliation in our lives and our world, it is up to us to embody it in the words we use and the actions we choose. Of course this means being the light of Christ to people who look and think, act, dress, vote and believe differently than us. It means stepping into uncomfortable places, like empty tombs and borderlands, and seeing the light of Christ right there.


We began our worship this evening lighting the new fire, a fire that each one of us carries into the darkness of the sanctuary that was stripped of all that is holy on Maundy Thursday. Now the outward signs of the Christ light, the candles have been extinguished because the Light of Christ lives in the sanctuary of each one of our hearts. We are the candles meant to bring Christ light into the world, a world that is being brutally stripped of all that is holy. If not us, then who will help creation to begin again?


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You may wish to skip the first 5 minutes of introduction to the Golijov Passion - the music is beyond amazing. Worth a listen! 

 

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