March 23, 2008
Easter, John 20:1-18
Shortly before Easter last year the Discovery Channel aired a documentary by people that claimed to have found a 2000 year old tomb holding the bones of Jesus and his family. The box in which the bones were found was inscribed with the names of “Jesus, son of Joseph,” “Mary,” and “Judah, Son of Jesus.” The documentary argued that these were the bones of Jesus, Mary Magdalene, and their son.
I only heard about the documentary about 6 months later when it became a heated topic during a prayer group that I was part of. One of the women in the group came in one morning incredibly upset because her church had just had someone talking about the documentary as part of an adult ed lecture that Sunday. She knew without a doubt that what the documentary claimed was absolutely false, partly because Jesus was never married and didn’t have a child. But even more importantly, the documentary’s claim was impossible because Jesus was raised bodily from the dead so left no bones to find. For her, that the church would even talk about the possibility of something other than a bodily resurrection without immediately dismissing it amounted to heresy.
Another woman in the group, who is very logical and scientific, began to talk about how she actually liked the idea of Jesus married with children. Wouldn’t that just have given him a fuller experience of what it is to be human? And she became just as passionate as the first woman when she began talking about her belief in the resurrection. For her, the idea of Jesus’ physical body coming back to life seemed absurd. She instead thought of the resurrection as more of a spiritual thing. Jesus living on in the hearts of his friends and disciples. But the concept of resurrection was no less meaningful for her.
The two talked around each other in circles for a long time, getting nowhere fast. And there hadn’t been much controversy in the group before, so the rest of us, maybe finding ourselves somewhere along the spectrum between these two views, weren’t sure what to say.
As far as I can tell, no respected archeologist actually believes that the bones that were the centerpiece of that Discovery Channel documentary are Jesus’ bones. They point out that the names Jesus and Mary were among the most common for the time; plus there was disagreement about what the words inscribed on the box actually said.
Nonetheless, my friends’ argument that day made me see how difficult the subject of resurrection can be. Here were two women of enormous faith, both role models for me in their prayer life and in the way their faith radiates through everything they do. There is no question that they both know and love Jesus, and yet their understanding and experience of Easter was irreconcilable. Or it seemed to be, at least.
John’s Gospel for this morning reminded me of my two friends. Because in this story we get an inside view of the Easter responses of the Beloved Disciple, Peter, and Mary Magdalene -- three of Jesus’ closest friends. And they are remarkably different.
For the Beloved Disciple, it doesn’t take much to believe that Jesus has risen. He went into the empty tomb, saw the linen wrappings lying there, and the cloth that had been on Jesus’ head rolled up in a place by itself, and he believed. Maybe it was that discarded head cloth that clinched it for the Beloved Disciple. That cloth that was rolled up separately from the other wrappings – called a “face veil” in some translations. That cloth is the same thing that Moses wore in the Exodus account after he finished speaking to God. Moses would veil his face with a cloth after his encounters with God because the people were afraid of the glory of God that his face reflected; Moses would then lay the veil aside again when he spoke to God. Some commentators think that the Beloved Disciple knew that Jesus’ putting aside the cloth that had covered his face in the tomb signified his return to the Father. The Son of God no longer “veiled in flesh” – no longer muting his glory for the sake of humanity.
The Beloved Disciple reminds of my friend from prayer group who has no trouble believing the miraculous stories in the Bible, who doesn’t doubt for a second that every word written about Jesus is factually true. She knows every inch of her Bible, so I could imagine her making that sort of theological connection and being confident that her transcendent, omnipotent God had raised Jesus from the dead.
It takes Peter longer to make the connection between empty tomb and resurrection. Peter goes into the tomb and sees the wrappings lying there but doesn’t yet understand. It only makes sense to him later that evening when Jesus appears in the locked room where he was gathered with the other disciples. Jesus says “Peace be with you” and shows them his pierced hands and side. John doesn’t tell us exactly what it is that convinces Peter. Could it be that Peter, still ringing with guilt from his three denials of Jesus just a few days before, knows the risen Jesus in his new-found forgiveness? In the sweet relief that flows from the “Peace be with you” that Jesus offers. Or maybe it was Peter’s being able to see the wounds in Jesus’ hands and side that convinced him. Maybe Peter is like many of us who have experienced pain, suffering, sorrow and therefore welcomes the Risen Jesus as someone who has been in the trenches with us and triumphed.
And then there’s Mary, poor Mary, who is so wrapped up in her despair over Jesus’ death that seeing the empty tomb, meeting two angels, and even seeing the risen Jesus himself can’t budge her assumption that someone has taken Jesus’ body away. Only when Jesus calls her by name does she finally understand and believe. In that one word, “Mary,” we recognize Jesus as the Good Shepherd whom he professed to be a few chapters earlier: “The sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.” When I was a little girl, I remember my mom singing me a certain song as a bedtime lullaby.
Que sera sera
Whatever will be will be…
And my memory of her voice singing those words even now brings back that unique feeling that I am special and loved and safe. I imagine that Mary must have felt something like that when she heard Jesus call her by name.
Somehow it’s reassuring to know that even for Jesus’ closest friends, there was no one path to believing. No simple formula that worked for everyone. And theirs are only a few examples. There are other ways to encounter the risen Jesus too, of course. Maybe like stubborn, doubting Thomas, who will not believe what others say and instead has to learn the hard way through experience. My other friend from prayer group always related well to him -- the scientist-type who wants proof that he can see and touch and understand. And then, maybe the most drastic path to belief that we see in the New Testament is Paul, who has to be struck down and blinded before he’ll believe. God had to break down the walls he’d erected around himself in order to get him to listen.
There are probably as many Easter stories -- as many experiences and understandings of the risen Jesus -- as there are believers. And, as one of my old friends used to say, “It’s all good.” However they got there, however long it took them, however grudging they might have been along the way, all of the eventual believers we meet in John’s gospel are welcomed into the fold. The risen Jesus’ last words to Mary are a request that she spread the word that the believers are Jesus’ brethren – his sisters and brothers – and that his God and Father is also theirs. They are all his siblings, children of God.
And the good news of Easter is that that includes us. We too are sons and daughters of God, which makes us participants in a very long line of people for whom Jesus can be a living reality. And all of our experiences -- however fleeting or long-lived, however transcendent or personal, whether found in times of suffering or forgiveness or joy, whether scientifically understandable or not – all of our varied Easter experiences in their own way allow us to encounter Jesus, alive and present in our world. Alleluia!
Elizabeth Rees