Show Up [Easter 2022 - John 20:1-18]

 The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson

John 20:1-18

 

Show Up

 

There was no hope on the first Easter morning.  Just dark skies and heavy hearts and the stubborn shadow of the cross.  And a lonely woman carrying spices and ointments to the place where they laid her dearest friend to rest.

 

There was no hope on the dusty road that she traveled.  It was a road of sorrows, made muddy by the tears of too many mourners.  The road led to death, to a valley of dry bones and faded memories.  And no amount of beautiful flowers or well-manicured trees or impressive monuments could disguise the fact that Mary was lugging her oppressive grief and her broken heart to a cemetery.

 

There was no hope in that empty tomb.  It was not a cause for joy on that first Easter morning; it was a symbol of the emptiness Mary felt.  It was yet another reason to weep, until even her tear ducts were emptied out.  When she saw the that the stone was missing and the grave was empty, she ran to share the news with the disciples – not the news of resurrection but of deeper devastation.  On Friday she watched her beloved die in a shameful fashion.  On Sunday, she returned to visit his grave, to weep and to say those things left unsaid, and to her utter dismay, she found his tomb desecrated.  On Sunday, she returned to his grave to touch his body one final time, to anoint those holy hands that had once healed her, to anoint the arms that once comforted her, to anoint the lips that called her by her name, but his body was missing, he was missing, taken from her yet again.

 

There was no hope in Mary’s heart.  All she could do, as the sun hid behind the sloping hills on that first Easter morning, was weep.  The tears would not stop because of how Jesus died.  And when Jesus’ died.  And all that would now never happen because Jesus died.  And now even the little she had left of him was gone.  And she was utterly alone – even though there were others in that garden.

 

There was no hope in that garden.  There were only suspects.  The angels tried to console Mary; she questioned them about the missing body.  Jesus, looking to her like a gardener, tried to console Mary; she asked him to give back the body, to return what he had taken.  She cannot bring back Jesus but she is determined to get back his dead body.  In the face of death we cannot do much and so the human tendency is to simply do what we can.  She brought spices and oils to anoint the body of Jesus and her stubborn grief will allow nothing else.  She has no hope; she has only a task and that task was the only thing that got her out of bed on that first Easter morning.

 

There was no hope on that first Easter.  The sky was dark and the disciples were hiding and her heart was broken.  Jesus’ last words were imprinted on Mary’s soul as she journeyed into a place of death: “It is finished.”  There was no hope on that first Easter morning.  And still she showed up in that garden.  Jesus was dead and still Mary followed Jesus.  She kept showing up.

 

There is, of course, another Easter miracle that overshadows that, but that is also an Easter miracle.  Sometimes the miracle is just showing up – when hope seems lost and life is hard and the pain of this world seems all-consuming.  Sometimes the miracle is just showing up – when it feels like the power of evil is on a winning streak and justice is little more than a fantasy and we cannot get the burdens of history off of our backs.  Sometimes the miracle is just showing up – when the metallic clang of the nails is still ringing in our ears and the cries of crucify seem to drown out the still small voice of peace and when it feels like Jesus is nowhere to be found.  In a world filled with too much bad news and too many Good Fridays, sometimes the miracle is just showing up. 

 

Mary showed up in a place of death, in a place that felt hopeless.  Her expectations were low, her grief overwhelming.  But on that Easter morning, weeping in the doorway of an empty tomb, she found Jesus, or rather Jesus found her.  She came looking for death.  But there was life in that place of death.  Because in the Easter reality nothing is lost and nothing is hopeless.

 

And that Easter reality is our reality.  We live in the very world in which Jesus rose from the dead.  This is not a fairy tale.  We live in the very world in which God spoke resurrection into existence.  We live in the very world in which life triumphed over the power of death.  We live in the very world in which love wins.

 

The same Risen Christ who walked out of the tomb and dried Mary’s tears lives in this world.  The same Risen Christ lives in you, in your heart.  You are the Body of Christ.  That Easter hope is your holy inheritance.  It is your calling in this world; it is the calling of your life.  You are called to be the hope in hopeless places.

 

All you have to do is show up.  I know this life is hard.  I know that pain is real.  I know that the forces of violence and destruction, of hatred and evil appear powerful and persistent.  I know that despair beats against our shores and chips away at our resolve.  I know it is not easy.  But you have been called to remind this world that Easter is God’s final answer.  That love does get the final word.  That hope is a dream worth dreaming. 

 

Show up.  Carry the Risen Christ into places of death and despair.  Whisper a word of hope to those who have lost hope, to those stained with tears and shattered from the inside out.  In this world of dark skies and dusty roads, Easter is your calling.  All you have to do is show up; there is Jesus in you.