John 20:1-9

“Enter the Tomb”

It’s 4 in the morning. Mary couldn’t sleep. She’s overcome with feelings of grief and hopelessness at the loss of her Lord, Jesus. No one else in the house is awake yet. She doesn’t want to be alone right now. But there’s nothing anyone can say that could comfort her.

Stepping out into the cold morning air, Mary begins to walk to the tomb where Jesus had been laid. She can’t shake the feeling that maybe all of this was just a bad dream– that she hadn’t really seen Jesus tortured and killed, that she hadn’t really seen the light leave his eyes and the breath escape from his body. But her feet were carrying her to the tomb. She needed to see it.

Coming up the path to the garden in darkness, Mary squinted to see if she could make out the place where Nicodemus had buried him.

Suddenly, her heart sank. The stone which was meant to seal away the outside world from the tomb was gone. Mary was too heartbroken to look inside the tomb. She hadn’t yet seen the risen Christ. This empty tomb, the bold symbol of our resurrection faith, was still to Mary the threat of grave robbers.

Mary needed to find Jesus’ body, to do everything in her power to honor him in whatever way was still possible for a man who had been pierced and beaten and crucified.

So she ran. When she got home, she heard two low voices speaking through tears. The rest of the house was still asleep. The men saw Mary’s face, pale as a ghost. “They have taken my Lord”.

“Show us,” they said, with great urgency.

Then Mary, Peter, and the other disciple ran to the tomb.

And we have this beautiful moment, here, one of the most powerful images of grief and love, the foot race to the tomb. Peter and the other disciple are running, and what happens is that the other disciple actually gets there first, but he can’t bring himself to go inside. He has seen what Mary has seen, an empty tomb. Bad news.

But when Peter arrives at the entrance to the tomb, he goes inside. He sees the linens, rolled up neatly. Too neatly. Not the work of grave robbers, but something else. A patient, gentle touch. Peter saw a mystery, something he wouldn’t quite understand until Jesus came to him and the disciples later that evening. Was it really possible? Had Christ been raised from the dead?

When I selected this passage for Easter, I thought it would be good for us to acknowledge and dwell in the holy mystery of the resurrection for a moment together. Because I think all of us, even if we have come to believe and love Jesus, cannot say that we have seen the Risen Christ. We have a faith which is, at times, completely inexpressible. We believe, but we have not yet seen. And that is what I see here in John’s gospel.

I see the other disciple, waiting outside the tomb, not sure if he’s ready to go inside. Not sure if he can step into this new and unexpected reality. Just on the edge of a breakthrough, at this pivotal moment in history, but standing outside the entrance. Why did the other disciple wait to enter the tomb?

Parker Palmer writes about his experience with depression, saying that sometimes “figurative forms of death can feel comforting, while resurrection– the hope of new life– can feel threatening”.

When we are used to these little deaths, life is a stranger. So we find ourselves clinging, whether we like it or not, to the things that wound us: our apathy at an unjust world, relationships that hurt us, systems that compromise our integrity, the unending desire to be better than someone else, our addictions and compulsions that we have come to hate but can’t imagine our lives without. Truthfully, embracing new life, embracing the promise of resurrection, can feel threatening.

So we stand just outside the tomb. We are the nameless “other disciple,” not sure if we’re ready to embrace new life. Not sure if we’re ready to put our faith in this strange mystery. Hoping, but maybe not yet fully believing that we’ll meet the Risen Lord.

What will we see if we enter the tomb ourselves? What new life is waiting for us there? Come and see.

Christ died for us, yes, and for us, Christ has been raised, so that we might also be raised to know abundant life! And we proclaim the mystery of faith:

“Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.” May Christ enter our hearts by faith and bring new life to the dead places in our lives today and always. Amen.