Thomas J Parlette
“He is not here”
Mark 16: 1-8
4/12/20, Easter
Dr. John Trent tells about a wedding video he once saw. The video was shot from the back of the church looking up the aisle toward the bride and groom. Because of the camera angle, you could see several members of the congregation. Suddenly, during the vows, a man jumped up out of his pew and yelled “Yes, Yes, Yes!”, as he pumped his fist in the air. Then he froze, realized where he was and slid down in his seat – and then very slowly pulled some ear phones out of his ears. It turns out he had been listening to the Vikings/Packers football game, and the Vikings had just scored a touchdown.
Easter is that kind of day for us, isn’t it? A day to pump our fists in the air and “Yes, Yes, Yes!” Yes is what Easter is all about. God’s yes to humanity. God’s yes to Jesus and all Jesus taught us about the meaning of life. God’s yes to the victory of life over death, of love over hate, of faith over fear, of hope over despair. Everything about Easter says, “Yes, Yes, Yes.” We are filled with joy, and we can’t hold back the rejoicing.
Eugene Smith was a minister who never sang much because he didn’t have much of a voice and couldn’t read music. But one year, on Easter Sunday, his daughter persuaded him to sing along with the choir when it came time for the Hallelujah Chorus. And he got really caught up in the last part, when they were singing all those hallelujahs. He got so caught up and wasn’t paying attention when the director stopped, the choir stopped and organ went silent. And he let out one final, solo “Hallelujah.” Afterwards he said, “They stopped too soon. Since that Easter Sunday I’ve been going around with a couple of Hallelujah’s stuck inside me just waiting to get out.”
That’s Easter for us. A time to celebrate Christ’s victory over death. God’s “Yes” to life fills us with so many Hallelujahs that we have no room for them all. Christ is Risen – He is not here – Yes!- Hallelujah!
But then we turn to Mark, and we find something very different. There’s not much Easter joy in Mark, is there? There’s not a lot of celebration going on in this text. Most New Testament scholars agree that Mark ended his Gospel right there at verse 8. If you were following along in your own Bible, you may have noticed that there are 2 different ending provided in most translations – a shorter ending, and a longer ending. These two different endings are found in some, but not all ancient manuscripts of Mark, some of which are considered to be reliable copies, and others somewhat less reliable. They represent an attempt by the early church to give proper closure to Mark’s gospel. It does just seem to end too abruptly, doesn’t it?
The women come to the tomb, hoping to anoint Jesus’ body with spices and they come upon a mysterious young man, dressed in a white robe, who announces the resurrection.
“He is not here. Don’t worry. He has gone ahead of you, to Galilee, just as he told you.”
“So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them. And they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.” And that’s it. That’s all Mark wrote.
Not a very satisfying ending, is it? You can understand why scribes may have tried to add a sentence or two, just to round off the story. Tom Long has written that “Mark’s ending not only fails to provide a proper narrative closure, it also lurches to an awkward grammatical stop. A more literal translation would read, “To no one anything they said; afraid they were for…” and it trails off there in mid-sentence. It’s as if Mark, sounding remarkably like Yoda – “to no one they spoke… afraid they were…” – it’s as if he were dragged away from his writing desk while trying to finish the story.
An unsatisfying ending, badly written. A lot less joy in Mark than we might expect. Not much celebration here either. The fist pumping “Yes” just isn’t there, and in it’s place is a sense of discomfort and uncertainty.
In his commentary on Mark, Donald Juel tells the story of one of his students who had memorized the whole of the Gospel of Mark for a dramatic staged reading for a live audience. After careful study, the student had decided to go with the scholarly consensus regarding the ending. At his first performance, however, after he spoke that ambiguous last verse, he stood there awkwardly shifting from one foot to other, the audience waiting for more, waiting for closure, waiting for a proper ending. Finally, after several anxious seconds, he said, “Amen” – and made his exit. The relieved audience applauded loudly and appreciatively. Upon reflection though, the student realized that by providing the audience a satisfying conclusion, his “Amen” had actually betrayed the dramatic intention of the text. So at the next performance, when he reached to final verse, he simply paused for a half a beat – and left the stage in silence. “The discomfort and uncertainty within the audience was obvious,” said Juel, “and as people exited… the buzz of conversation was dominated by the experience of the non-ending.”
Instead joy and celebration, Mark leaves us with discomfort and uncertainty. And that exactly what he wants. After the announcement of Jesus’ resurrection, we are left wondering, “Ok, now what? What do we do now?” So why does Mark do this? What’s he up to with this non-ending?
Well, let’s look for a clue in Mark’s story. What does Jesus do after his resurrection? Where does he go?
Interestingly, he doesn’t go right back into Jerusalem. Doesn’t that strike you as a bit odd? Wouldn’t you expect that Jesus would go back to Jerusalem, the major city in the region, the site of his humiliation and disgrace, to celebrate his resurrection? Wouldn’t you think that Jesus would go right back to Pontius Pilate and show him what a mistake he’d made? But he doesn’t do that. Mark tells us that “He is not here. Jesus goes ahead of you – back to Galilee.”
Mark isn’t concerned with giving us a happy ending. He doesn’t seem to care about wrapping up his loose ends into a nice, neat package. Mark isn’t interested in a celebration – at least not the kind of celebration we expect. Instead, Mark is looking to leave us with something else. Mark wants to leave us with a charge. By saying, “He is not here. He goes ahead of you to Galilee.” – Mark wants to leave us with a challenge and a mission.
First of all, consider that phrase “Jesus goes ahead of you.” In his death and resurrection, Jesus goes ahead of us into the great unknown of death and conquers it’s power. Every once in awhile, someone asks me, “Why do we say that Jesus descended into Hell in the Apostles Creed. Why did Jesus go to hell. It’s a good question. For many years the church has believed in an idea called “the harrowing of hell.” It’s the idea that in the three days that Jesus was dead, between his crucifixion and his resurrection – he went to the place of the dead, preached to the spirits entombed there, and led them out. That way, everyone who had ever lived had the opportunity to hear the Gospel. That idea found it’s way into our theology in the Apostle’s Creed, where we affirm our belief that Jesus descended into hell – the very depth of human pain and suffering and sin. Thus the church affirmed that there is no corner of creation, no forgotten part, no over-looked person. Jesus is going on before us – even to the depths of hell, to conquer the power of sin and death. He goes there before us to save us.
And now consider where Jesus goes after his resurrection – He goes back to Galilee. Why? What’s in Galilee? What’s so special about Galilee?
Well, to be honest – there’s not much in Galilee. There’s nothing particularly special in Galilee. It’s just a place where regular people make their living – fishing, farming or herding sheep – making their own clothes, preparing their own meals, just going about the daily routine of life. There’s nothing special about Galilee.
And maybe that’s precisely the point!
On the first day of his eternal life, Jesus goes back to sight of his early ministry, he goes back to the beginning. Jesus goes back to the place where his disciples were just learning the ropes, where he taught and healed and traveled the countryside, preaching about God’s Kingdom. He goes back to Galilee.
And that’s where the disciples were supposed to meet him. “There you will see him, just as he told you,” says Mark. It’s as if Mark’s gospel story is on a loop, repeating itself over and over and over again. I
n the first chapter, Mark wrote “Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the Good News of God.” Now, after the resurrection, instead of celebrating Jesus’ triumph over the grave – Mark starts the story over again. He drops us off right at the beginning. In other words, reader, listener – this story isn’t over. Leave the tomb, he is not here. Leave the tomb and go back and read it again, listen to it again. In fact, live it again! Now that you have been to the cross and to the tomb – Live the Gospel. Start over again, in your own Galilee. Live the Gospel again in your own time, in your own place, in your own hometown. Live the Gospel again – for he is not here.
Confronted with the announcement of the resurrection, the women and the disciples didn’t know what to do. They were amazed – but they were also terrified. They didn’t immediately understand that Jesus’ resurrection was really the beginning of life of discipleship – not merely a celebration of eternal life.
It’s like something that Max Otto once wrote. He says, “Along the upper reaches of the Ohio River, where the foothills of the Allegheny Mountains hem in one of America’s most beautiful streams, you sometimes awake at daybreak to find that a heavy mist has blotted out the landscape, leaving only a narrow circle of visibility. When this happens, you resign yourself to the weather and wait for a change – or you may do the work that you have on hand, with the best cheer you can muster, calling out to the neighbor whose shadowy form you can just barely see. If you keep busy, the mist rises. You see the River rolling on toward the mighty Mississippi. Then you see the opposite shore, the houses of the city, the taller buildings, the towers of schools, the steeples of the churches. Slowly the mist climbs the hills, hangs for a little while, like a veil on the summit, then vanishes, disclosing a blue sky. And the work you began in the fog, you continue in the sunlight.”
The disciples were in a fog following the crucifixion and death of Jesus – even after his resurrection, the fog lingered. The fear and the terror, the discomfort and the uncertainty still hung about them like a mist.
But back in Galilee, things cleared up. The fog lifted to reveal the light of a beautiful new day. What they began in the fog, they continued in the sunlight. The fog has lifted – a new day has begun.
For today we celebrate the resurrection of our savior, Jesus Christ – the one who has gone before us and conquered the power of sin and death. We pump our fists in the air and shout “Yes!” as the Hallelujahs come spilling out!
But we are also given a challenge, we are given a mission – for Jesus also went before us back to Galilee. We are called to go back to everyday life. Go back to the beginning, says Mark. Easter is more than a celebration of eternal life. Easter is the celebration of a new life – of discipleship. Not the celebration we might expect – but a celebration all the same.
Read the story one more time, my friends. Better yet – live the story. Live the story of the man from Galilee. For hew is not here. He goes before us, back into life. Come, live as a disciple of our Risen Lord, Jesus Christ. Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Amen.
