Of Fact, Fear and Faith

Rev. Kyle Clark

Gospel Lesson: Mark 16:1-8

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Easter Sunday

The high point of the church year is upon us, the day of resurrection is here. The ancients would greet each other on Easter morning with the proclamation, "Christos anesti" (Christ is risen!), "alithos anesti” (He is risen indeed!).

“He is risen!” All four gospels proclaim a risen Jesus, although they do this in very different ways. John has no angelic announcement, telling instead of an encounter – Mary Magdalene meets the resurrected Jesus outside the tomb. Matthew and Luke include the angel in the tomb meeting the Marys and other women with the familiar words, “He is risen.” In each case these women went and told the Peter and the others. And in each case Jesus made an appearance, although at different times, in different places and different ways.

Mark however, is different still. Mark is troublesome. Yes, Mark has the angel announcing the resurrection.  But, you see while your Bible probably has some verses after verse 8, most scholars agree that these verses are later additions – some 200 or more years later. The earliest and most reliable manuscripts of Mark’s Gospel end at verse 8 with Mary, Mary and Salome running away scared and saying nothing to anyone. And Jesus never appears to them and never says anything to anyone after this – at least according to Mark.

Even though they don’t agree on the details, at least the other three Gospels give us some reason to hope, to feel good, a sense of closure. At least Matthew, Luke and John have Jesus comforting those that were closest to him, reassuring them, giving them a few final instructions before he leaves for good.  

But Mark doesn’t do any of those things. He doesn’t even really end the story, he just sort of stops, leaving all these loose ends for us to wrestle with. Why would he stop the story like this? It’s a heck of a way to wrap the “good news,” don’t you think; Jesus is dead, the disciples have scattered, the body is gone and the women run away tight lipped and scared beyond imagination?  If that’s the way those closest to Jesus acted, cowardly and scared, how can we, separated by great time and distance expect to exhibit bold, strong faith?

This preaching gig is tough enough on regular Sundays. To have to struggle with a text like this is on Easter, the day we gather to celebrate the foremost festival in the Church, the day when everything is supposed to be right with creation, well that almost seems unfair. This is the reason that Reinhold Niebuhr, one of America’s preeminent Protestant preachers and theologians of the mid-20th century turned down invitations every Easter to preach at some of the largest churches in the country. So difficult were texts like this for Niebuhr that he wouldn’t even attend Easter services at his own Protestant church, preferring instead the liturgy of the Roman Catholic or Episcopal church, ‘in order,” he said, “not to be subjected to some poor preacher making a fool of himself trying to explain the resurrection.”   

Well, I might make a fool of myself (I have plenty of times already and will probably do so many times more), but not because I will try to explain the resurrection. Now I don’t want to dampen any Easter enthusiasm of those of you who attend here regularly. Neither do I want to add any discomfort to those who may be here feeling a bit awkward and out of place, perhaps even a little scared, maybe even hypocritical. No, regardless of who you are or where you find yourself along this road of faith, I simply want to say, “Welcome. If you’re a little unsure at times, a little skeptical at times, but really want to believe in the resurrection and the good news, you’re among friends and you’re in the right place, because if we are honest with ourselves we all have had moments of uncertainty, skepticism, and fear, yet we all want to believe. That’s why we come here each week.”

I also want to say to you that, “if you don’t understand the resurrection, if you struggle with it, you’re not alone. If those closest to Jesus, those who were there and witnessed all the events of the week we call Holy Week didn’t really grasp what was going on, if the Gospel writers struggled with it, then it’s understandable if we struggle too.

Maybe that’s what Mark is trying to say. Maybe Mark is saying, “You know what? Here are the facts – Jesus lived; Jesus did some amazing things; Jesus showed profound compassion for forgotten people; Jesus taught with authority never seen before; Jesus said he would die and rise again; Jesus died; the disciples scattered; the women stayed; Jesus rose (don’t know how, just know his body wasn’t where it should have been); the women were told he had risen, that they needed to go to Galilee and tell Peter and the others but instead they got scared and they ran away and didn’t tell anyone anything.

Who can blame them, really? After all they had witnessed that week, to come to the tomb expecting just a cold body and finding instead an angel proclaiming some outrageous message. How many of us would run into this sanctuary or any sanctuary immediately and joyfully without hesitation if we had a vision or a dream or had seen an angel who told us we would see Jesus face to face right here? If we came at all, wouldn’t we come slowly, cautiously, maybe with some skepticism, certainly with some fear and anxiety mixed with hope? It’s not that we don’t want to see Jesus, surely that would be the most wonderful thing that could happen. But don’t you think we might approach the time and place with awe and trembling as well as joy and hope?

So they ran away sacred, telling no one – and yet eventually they did tell, they must have told. We know this because other people came to know and believe. Faith grew and lives were transformed. They told not because they could explain the resurrection event. They told because they had experienced it! And there is a huge difference. The fact that they experienced the resurrection, that it  left them trembling, and led to increased faith, and this they had to tell.

It’s a frightening thing to meet the divine, to come face to face with the holy. It’s frightening not so much because we fear for our well being but because we don’t often know how to respond. Yet, if we let him, Jesus will lead us through our fears.

Patti’s childhood was less than ideal. A father and siblings imprisoned for various crimes, abusing drugs herself at an early age, pregnant and 15, married at 16, divorced at 18, in and out of abusive relationships. What chance did she have? But eventually she completed school and even attended college. Still she struggled with relationships and another husband with a substance abuse problem. She met a couple that invited her to church, a church where she was accepted. After a few months she was invited to attend a Walk to Emmaus event where she found Christ waiting for her. She discerned God calling her into ordained ministry. No the process wasn’t easy for her – seminary is expensive and she had limited funds, then there were some personality conflicts with people on boards that oversaw her progress. She cried many tears and asked a lot of unanswerable questions. There were many days of fear and trembling and silence, but she is now serving a church as an associate pastor working with people who felt like he used to feel and helping others see people on the margins.  

Hers is a story of resurrection. A story of life springing forth from death. A story of a new beginning made possible by Jesus and trembling faith in him. A story that stops here for now, but does not end here. A story of fact and fear and faith.

They were a young couple with a small daughter sitting in an upstairs room at her parents house. She was crying and saying she couldn’t do this anymore, he just didn’t seem to get it and was never around to help. Their marriage seemed over. She was scared and hurt and felt alone, he was scared only when he realized how he had neglected her because of the job. Yet somehow they managed to get through this tough time. They began really working on this marriage. Church had always been important for her and now he began to seek God and God has called them to places and opportunities that they never dreamed of. They still had their moments when things were a challenge, career changes, moves, new locations, outside obligations. It’s scary to just pick up and go where God leads, but they grew through this. They reconciled. They stayed in love with each other and grew in love with God through Christ.

This is a resurrection story. A story of life springing forth from death. A story of a new beginning made possible by Jesus and trembling faith in him. A story that stops here for now, but does not end here. A story of fact and fear and faith.

Disasters happen. Hurricanes, tornados, fire. There is death and destruction and fear. People, fearing what they might see, what they might discover, what they might be asked to do, respond anyway. Despite the overwhelming loss and insurmountable odds, survivors are found in the rubble. In the midst of death celebration takes place when the unexpected rescue happens and God is there.

Stories of resurrection. Stories of life springing forth from death. Stories where hope is never abandoned. Can anyone but people of faith, even fearful, trembling faith do this?

The fact is that faith does not always bring an end to every heartache and calm every fear immediately. Sometimes it takes time. But God remains with us. The fact is that we don’t always see with absolute clarity or beyond all doubt the risen Jesus. But faith doesn’t need that. The resurrection is not something we need to prove. Not even Mark tries to do that. The fact is the resurrection is a reality that we experience as we go about our lives, sometimes in fear and trembling, expecting to see Jesus outside the tomb in the places where we live because the fact is that Christ goes before us so that even in our fear we may have faith.

This is the reality, the fact of the resurrection. What more needs to be said?

Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Hallelujah! Amen.