Do Not Be Afraid [Great Vigil of Easter - Mark 16:1-8]

 The Rt. Rev. Jeremiah Williamson

Mark 16:1-8

 

Do Not Be Afraid

The Cathedral of All Saints, Albany, NY

 

Of course they were afraid.  This is a scary world.  You heard tonight’s Scriptures.  In this world, though created good, predators stalk gardens of paradise, even Eden.  In this world, the innocent are enslaved and pursued to the point of hopelessness.  In this world, exiles long for home, sometimes long for what is left of home.  In this world, the path to the tomb can be treacherous and, because the shadows are so long, people have to travel in groups.  Even in the pages of the Scriptures.  Even in the earliest hours of Easter.

 

And then there is death.  In this world.  In the Easter Scriptures.  These women, the ones who walked to the tomb, they carried spices.  The spices were their gift for the dead, to cover the unpleasantness, and to give distraction to their unpleasant thoughts. 

 

These Gospel women are haunted women.  They had seen terrible things in this scary world.  They witnessed as Good Friday barged into existence, in such a cruel way, as if the sun and flowers and happy children didn’t matter.  On Good Friday they saw the unseeable.  And then carried in their nightmares the very worst things of which humans are capable.  It was the violence, of course.  But also the dehumanizing way in which violence can be exacted with such cavalier nonchalance. 

 

The trauma of the week was so dizzying, in part, because it was so unexpected.  Death is almost always difficult.  It comes packaged with pain.  The grief lingers and then wanes and swells, with no apparent rhythm.  But this death, the death of Jesus, was sudden and unprepared.  It just happened.

 

On the previous Sunday, one week before they carried spices, Jesus was greeted with boundless joy.  His entry into the city of Jerusalem was a triumph.  Singing and shouting and branches of palm: all for a man from the hill country of Galilee, a man without riches or status.  The future was bright.  His friends felt happy then, back then.

 

And then came Thursday.  An after-dinner arrest.  And from there a sudden and severe condemnation.  And the punching of fists.  And the spitting, so disrespectful.  And the crown of thorns.  And the way the crowd turned – on him and on them, the ones who loved him.

 

And finally, and most decisively, the cross.  It just happened.  There was no time to say goodbyes or order affairs.  The momentum was impossible.  And it carried Jesus to his death.  And they witnessed everything.  When most every other follower walked away, these women stayed, close, too close.  When the others hid, these women found shelter in the shadow of the cross.  They saw death and dismount.  They watched as Jesus was placed in the tomb.  They saw the stone rolled into place.

 

All of it, in this scary world.  In their Good Friday reality, the followers of Jesus watched as the powers of death conquered God.  Still undefeated, apparently no one was immune.  Another Gospel tells us that the eleven remaining apostles locked themselves in because of fear.  They thought they might be found guilty by association.  And after what happened to Jesus, who can blame them?

 

The fear bled into Easter Sunday morning.  And still these women, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome, unlocked their doors and walked outside, into the big, scary world.  And they marched together to a place of death.  And then they walked together into the tomb – to confront death.

 

But on Easter morning, much to their shock and dismay and surprise, there was no death.  Jesus was gone – missing and reportedly raised – but definitely not there.  They watched him enter the tomb, breathless and carried in linen.  And now, in the place of death, was emptiness.  On Easter morning, the women fled that place with a mess of emotions and an unbelievable story and a message to convey.  And still afraid.  Because it was still a scary world. 

 

But on that morning, something was happening: fear was losing its power.  Crosses still lined the Roman roads but those crosses felt less imposing on Easter morning.  The world still churned with violence but love was claiming space.   Death was still lurking but it was no longer quite so menacing, because in the wee hours of that Sunday morning, the undefeated had been defeated.  Good Friday was not erased but it had been undone and overcome and transformed. 

 

Because Christ is Risen death is no longer the end of the story.  Because of Easter there is this resurrection power in the world.  There is a hope that swells this kind of courage in our hearts and in our souls.  This kind of hope that pushes Alleluias from our throats – even at the grave, even through our tears. 

 

Now, there are still terrible things in this world; they dominate the news cycle; they sometimes encroach on our lives.  The world is still scary.  But the threat is neutralized; the power of evil has lost its teeth.  The terrors of this world might try to gain ground, but they are being forever beaten back by the delicate strength of beauty and goodness.  Despair wants to stake its claim, but it is no match for a hope that stretches into eternity.  Violence and death still rage and fight for a victory but life is inevitable.  And love is more powerful.  Easter tells us so.

 

When Jesus walked out of the tomb, alive and well, he walked out with us in his heart, on his mind, and in his arms.  He shares with us his victory.  And we live with that victory in our souls; it fills us like the very breath of life.  Though the world might rage around us, because of Easter, the peace of the Risen Christ is etched into our very bones.  Jesus blesses our lives with a love that is unstoppable and a resurrection life that is inevitable.  Though there are still many things to fear, we do not need to be afraid.  We are people of resurrection hope.  We are people of the eternal promise.  We are children of the God who brings life and new life and unending life to the world.  Sing your Alleluias with all the boldness you can muster.  You live in the Easter world.  You are filled with the same Spirit that raised Christ from the dead.  And it is the Easter God who is writing your story and in my Bible that Easter story always has a happy ending.