Sermon Archive

The Unfinished Story
© by the Reverend Dr. Byron E. Shafer
(Rutgers, April 23, 2000;  Easter Sunday, Year B;
 Holy Communion)Acts 10:34–43 (NT, pp. 134–135);  Mark 16:1–8 (NT, pp. 55–56)
(the material on Roberta Bondi is drawn from The Living Pulpit, January-March, 1998, p. 36.)
What a strange last verse Mark provides for his story of Jesus!  I mean, really odd!  It says: “”So [the women] … fled from the tomb … ; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.”

About the events of that first Easter day, Mark describes for us only a tomb opened and minus the corpse, a “young man” dressed in dazzling white apparel— was he an angel?— and three sorrowful women panicked into flight and silence.  Mark offers us at the end of his gospel no appearances by the Risen Christ, no instances of vanquished sorrow, no episodes of quickened hope.   Mark tells us simply that when the two Mary’s and Salome arrived at the tomb they found it open, and that when they went in, they found there, to their alarm, only a mysterious “young man,” who said to them:  “…you’re looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified.  He’s been raised; he’s not here.…  [G]o tell his disciples and Peter that he’s going ahead of you to Galilee; there you’ll see him, just as he told you.”

And the women respond to this command to go and tell by fleeing in fright and saying nothing to anyone!
  Mark’s gospel ends not with a shout of victory, nor a leap for joy—but with the women’s flight in astonished silence.  This inglorious response of theirs seems but to repeat the pattern of flight and denial shown earlier by Jesus’s male disciples, most notably Peter, at the time of Jesus’s arrest, and trial, and crucifixion.  Now, at the tomb, even the women succumb to fear.

This image that concludes Mark’s gospel falls like a bombshell on the expectation nurtured earlier in the gospel that though the men might fail  the women would not.  They would prove ever faithful in doing whatever needed to be done.  But now, on Easter morning, those who had proven faithful on Friday, through the hours of crucifixion and burial, do fail.  They flee, and remain silent.  It would seem, in the end, that there are no heroes among Jesus’s followers.

At first glance, Mark’s ending seems inappropriate for a book that purports to offer good news.  But, perhaps Mark never intended this last verse to be for his readers the end of the story.  Perhaps Mark intended for his readers to experience his story as one that was, in fact, left deliberately unfinished.  For, in the original Greek, Mark’s last verse ends in mid-sentence.  Yes, it does!  It concludes with what amounts to a “. . .”—or a “to be continued.”  In English, we might duplicate the effect Mark creates by reading not “For they were afraid.” (period), but “For they were afraid, and … ”

Now, every reader in Mark’s audience of course understood that the women must not have remained silent forever, that they must have found their tongues sooner or later, that they must have gone on to tell the other disciples the good news that Jesus had been raised on the third day, that despite fear and failure the story must have gone on.

Otherwise, there would have been no continuing Christian community, there would have been no occasion to write or to read a gospel.  Without the resurrection and unequivocal testimony to it, the Jesus movement would have been stopped dead in the tracks of the disciples’ unmitigated despair and disillusionment.

But for Mark the curtain of the third day was still up; the drama of Easter was not over; the story of resurrection was still unfinished.  Mark wanted every one of his readers to complete the story of resurrection in very personal terms.

Mark wanted every one of us readers to shape our own account of a personal experience of the resurrection of Christ, a personal experience of the triumph of good over evil, a personal experience of the conquest of fear by hope, a personal experience of the victory of the forces of life over the forces of death.

Mark wanted every one of us readers to write our own narrative of how life has come to be reaffirmed by us in the face of death, our own account of how our personal experiences of tears shed, of pain sustained, and of death remembered have come to be transformed into experiences of composure gained again, of joy felt afresh, and of life affirmed anew.

Let me share with you one such story, a story  of a modern-day Mary Magdalene, a modern-day Salome, a story of a contemporary woman’s transformation from despair to joy, a story that offers us a contemporary conclusion to Mark’s consciously unfinished gospel.

It’s an autobiographical story told to us by Roberta Bondi, a church historian on the faculty of the Candler School of Theology at Emory University in Atlanta.  It’s a story found in her quite moving chapter on the resurrection in her book Memories of God, a book in which she seeks to find a way to claim for our own time and our own generation what it means to be Christian.

In this chapter, Bondi explores the development of her understanding of the resurrection in terms of her own life-experience.  She begins by presenting various childhood memories, describing the pressures of family and church that had led to her childhood depression.  Her evolving understanding of what God wanted of her is chronicled through descriptions of some of the very ordinary experiences of her youth and adulthood.  She weaves a web of stories that evokes her movement toward a richer, more mature faith.

Then Bondi describes one particular moment in her adulthood, while she was pursuing her career as a church historian, a moment in which her understanding, indeed her very person, went through a dramatic transformation.

She was alone in her study, experiencing great depression and despair, telling herself, “I absolutely give up.”  She had surrendered to her morbid state of mind, and then it happened!  Listen, as she herself tells her story:

"There in my familiar chair, on that green April afternoon, the light of my life went out.…  How long I sat there in that state, I have no idea.  Perhaps it was a long time that passed; perhaps it was simply a moment.  I only know that, all of a sudden and without any warning, I woke up.  I heard my own voice repeating in my mind the words from the Roman Catholic eucharistic prayers for Easter, ‘The joy of the Resurrection renews the whole world.’  Every cell of my body heard them, and for the first time I knew that these words were absolutely true.”

“‘…The joy of the Resurrection,’ I said to myself, and my heart filled up with a joy so fierce that it spilled out and ran through the whole of my body and flickered around me like a flame.  In my red chair I laughed out loud for pleasure.…  Of course!  There was, indeed, something I had missed about Christianity, and now all of a sudden I could see what it was.  It was the Resurrection! 

“How could I have been a church historian and a person of prayer who loved God  and still not known that the most fundamental Christian reality is not the suffering of the cross but the life it brings?  Of course, Jesus did not die to bring death to the world, but to establish the life God intended for us from the beginning.…  The foundation of the universe for which God made us, to which God draws us, and in which God keeps us is not death, but joy."  “The joy of the Resurrection…”

In that moment, Bondi’s depression had lifted, the forces of death within her had surrendered to the forces of life,and she had been given the resource of hope that was neededfor her to cope with her fears and anxieties.

Bondi’s story is an example of the stories that Mark hopes each one of us will be able to tell in order to finish Mark’s unfinished gospel—stories of transformation from fear to confidence, from despair to hope, from death to life, stories of transformation rooted in the reality that “The joy of the Resurrection renews the whole world.”

May Mark’s unfinished gospel find a conclusion of joy in each of our lives.  Through the power of the Risen Christ, may we all be led to the joy of certainty in the resurrection.  And may that certainty enable us to vanquish from our lives the power of doubt, of fear, of depression, of addiction.

You see, despite the sorry performance of all of Jesus’s disciples, God’s goodness will happen and will keep on happening.  And the story of God’s grace and of God’s power to transform wants to be written in each of our lives today! 

We cannot know where and when we shall experience the Risen Christ; we only know we cannot escape him, so anxious is he for the story of his resurrection to be finished in us.

Let us pray:
O God, whenever we find ourselves filled with doubt, or fear, or depression, or addiction, come to us in the Risen Christ, and finish in us Mark’s story of the empty tomb.  Amen. 

Now, I invite you all to stand and to join with me in offering a rousing Easter affirmation.  Are you ready? 

Christ is risen!  [Christ is risen indeed!]

Christ is risen!  [Christ is risen indeed!]

Alleluia!  [Alleluia!] 

Amen!  [Amen!]

Now, let us proceed to keep Christ’s feast!  Please be seated.

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