Let me repeat the greeting expressed at the beginning of the worship service. It is a privilege to welcome so many people to our Easter Worship/Celebration Service. Visitor, occasional worshiper, member of the congregation—I'm glad you are here.
There's something humbling in the fact that for hundreds of years people have gathered on the Sunday after the first full moon after the spring equinox to celebrate the centerpiece of the Christian faith: the resurrection of Jesus. I sometimes think about all those people over all those years, numbering in the millions. Among them were intellectuals—philosophers, authors, scientists; political leaders—emperors, kings and queens, presidents, prime ministers; artists—musicians, painters, actors; and lots and lots of ordinary people, whose lives were unnoticed by historians, but who mattered very much to their families and friends.
When those people gathered for worship on Easter Sunday, they heard readings from the Gospels, as we have heard today. Each of the four Gospels tells about the crucifixion of Jesus almost two thousand years ago, and about the sadness that paralyzed his followers after his death. And each of the four Gospels, along with the Apostle Paul, goes on to say that something changed those disillusioned men and women into courageous witnesses to a new reality: the power of God's love to transcend the barrier between life and death.
The story we just heard from the fourth Gospel includes the two themes of the first Easter: the empty tomb, and the appearances of the risen Christ. Of the two, the appearances are far more significant.
The Easter story in the fourth Gospel begins in darkness. "Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb...." I believe the Easter story has special meaning for people whose lives are touched by darkness of different kinds. The Gospels tell only one thing about Mary Magadalene before she is mentioned in the Easter weekend narratives. They do not say she led an immoral life. That idea is based on tradition not warranted by the Biblical witness. What the record says is that she was released form mental or spiritual torment through the ministry of Jesus and that she was deeply grateful. Through Jesus' message of love she had found freedom and dignity as a human being, as a woman made in the image of God. She became a disciple.
When the one who had given her back her life was executed as a criminal, she went to the place where he had been buried to anoint his body with spices and oils. But the grave was empty. She ran and told others of his disciples, who went to see for themselves. They returned to their homes, but she stayed at the tomb. After an encounter with angels, she turned, and was addressed by someone she didn't recognize at first. He asked her why she was weeping. She told him she was looking for the one who had given her a new life.
And then, in one of the great moments of the Gospels, or of any literature, Jesus calls her by name: Mary. And she recognizes him. Rabouni, or Teacher.
The story is full of mystery. The rational part of us wonders what really happened. But faith, while not opposed to reason, is not limited by it either. We human beings are made for thinking, and we are also made for feeling, for the ways of the heart or spirit as well as for the ways of the intellect.
For me, when I hear the Gospel story of Mary Magdalene's encounter with the risen Christ, something happens deep inside. I somehow hear Jesus speaking on behalf of God when he calls Mary by name. He called her by name. He calls me by name. He calls all of us by name. That's an expression of his love. He knows us. He cares about us.
I can't explain it. I can only say it's true. I can only tell you about it.
Several years ago a woman who grew up in the Trenton area returned to the town of her childhood after her husband of many years died. She had no children, only some distant relatives. She began attending the church where I was pastor. She joined a mid-week Bible study group. She was an outgoing woman in a quiet kind of way. She liked to laugh, and she was a good listener, so she made friends easily. A senior citizen, though she didn't like that term, she became a resident of a retirement community when she began having health problems. But her disposition seemed to improve as her health declined.
I visited her from time to time. On one of my visits, the woman, whose name was Edith Shepherd, said to me, "I want to tell you something. I haven't told anyone else because they'd think I was crazy."
"I won't think you're crazy," I told her.
This is what she said.
A couple of years ago at Easter you read the story about Mary Magdalene going to Jesus' tomb. I remember hearing you read that Jesus said "Mary." Then you started your sermon, and you described what had happened. But when you got to the part where Jesus spoke Mary's name, I heard you saying "Edie. Edie." I was sure of what I heard, but I asked some of my friends what you had said at that point in the sermon. They told me, "He said "Mary. Mary." Then I knew it wasn't you I heard—but Someone else.
Her face was glowing. "And you, know," she said, "I haven't been afraid since then. Not afraid of sickness, not afraid of death. God called me by name. And that's enough"
That is my Easter message for you, my friends. The risen Christ spoke of his followers as brothers and sisters. We are God's family. We are Easter people. God knows us, and those we care about, by name. God is love, and nothing in life or in death can separate us from that love.
Some, like Mary Magadalene, have seen the living Lord. Others, like Edith Shepherd, have heard his voice. We all can feel the power of his invincible love in our hearts. We are Easter people. We can trust God in life. We can trust God in death.
Christ is risen. He is risen indeed. Thanks be to God.