Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene
came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb. So
she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus
loved, and said to them, "They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and
we do not know where they have laid him." Then Peter and the other disciple
set out and went toward the tomb. The two were running together, but the other
disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. He bent down to look in
and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he did not go in. Then Simon
Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings
lying there, and the cloth that had been on Jesus' head, not lying with the
linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself. Then the other disciple,
who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; for as
yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead.
Then the disciples returned to their homes.
But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look
into the tomb; and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of
Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. They said
to her, "Woman, why are you weeping?" She said to them, "They
have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him."
When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but
she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, "Woman, why are
you weeping? Whom are you looking for?" Supposing him to be the gardener,
she said to him, "Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you
have laid him, and I will take him away." Jesus said to her, "Mary!"
She turned and said to him in Hebrew, "Rabbouni!" (which means Teacher).
Jesus said to her, "Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended
to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, `I am ascending to my
Father and your Father, to my God and your God.'" Mary Magdalene went
and announced to the disciples, "I have seen the
Lord"; and she told them that he had said these things to her.
The smell of green
This is a passage of such beauty, and texture and power.
Since this story is so culturally powerful,
and resides at the heart of a lot of faith imaginations
I often find myself caught up in the details of it.
First, Mary comes to the tomb
early in the morning.
Each time I read this, I think I smell the ozone
of a spring rain still hanging in the air.
And all the plant smells, flowers
opening to the rain,
the green smell of grass in the morning:
what is a "green" smell?
One website says that chlorophyll
shares
some of the chemical structure of blood,
and so grass has that sweetness
that is also a bit sharp, acrid, even metallic.
The metal in grass is magnesium, the metal in blood is iron.
(http://ask.yahoo.com/19991109.html)
So I think Mary is smelling all
of this,
the wonderful smells of morning coming to her nose.
But they are falling on unreceptive nasal cells.
She is too sad, grief-stricken, she walks in the tunnel of grief,
that place of narrow attention and awareness that we enter
in moments of great grief.
The morning is there for Mary, but she cannot yet sense it.
We can roll away the stone
The stone is rolled away, which is of course cause for alarm.
Her thought - somebody's taken Jesus' body;
It would make sense, after the horrible trial,
abuse, execution. It would be one more insult
in a grand procession of insults.
In retrospect, of course, the
stone rolled away is a powerful symbol of hope.
As the Ozark Mountain Daredevils sang, back in the '70s
It don't matter what is said/
We can wake up from the dead/
And roll away the stone.
That's a sermon:
Friends, do not stay in your tombs,
Let us not get too familiar with our bondages,
our weaknesses, our remembered insults and harm.
In the light of Jesus, we can
roll away the stone.
We can roll away the stone of prejudice,
of being kept outside the door,
of sitting lonely in our living rooms.
We can roll away the stone, for
in Christ,
there is healing for us, healing and hope.
In Christ, there are friends for us, community,
We can roll away the stone and
walk out
into that great good morning
of God's light and God's love,
in the eyes and hearts of our friends;
in the eyes and heart even of the stranger.
For no grave stone will stand
in the way of God's power of love.
No grave stone will, nor any habit of hate, nor any human distortion.
For we are created children of God's light, and not intended for the grave.
But Mary was not ready to hear
that sermon just yet.
For her, the rolled stone was tragedy added to tragedy.
It did not look like hope but only loss---
not an unfamiliar situation, really, where
hope comes disguised as loss.
The great race
Morning grass and flowers, stone rolled away.
Great details for our story. And now there's a race.
Now Mary runs off to tell the boys.
And Peter and John get into a guy competition
about who outran who to get to the grave.
(John is usually the name given to "the disciple whom Jesus loved)
John wins, which is a little suspicious,
since he's telling the story.
But the whole thing of guys turning even a moment like this
into a competition - that's obviously true.
I've even been proud about how
fast I can give blood.
Yes, 4 minutes and 43 seconds a pint.
The thing that's wonderful, however, is the energy of response.
Mary runs to them. They run back to the tomb.
Then the guys go back home - they don't quite know what to do.
But things are on the move. The friends of Jesus
are filling their lungs, moving legs, pumping blood.
This too is all because of a fear
of "foul play," as it's called in thriller novels.
But although it's not about foul play, the friends' energy is not wasted.
It is dawn, and the friends of Jesus are awake and moving.
They are awake, and soon for them there will be a second dawn.
Angels in white?
Now Mary goes back to the tomb and looks in.
And the next detail is: why are the angels dressed in white?
Why not silver or gold? Or a rainbow of colors?
Or I like the idea of angels in kente cloth, maybe
Maya Angelou and James Earl Jones sitting there resplendent.
Think about James Earl Jones saying:
"Woman, why are you weeping?"
He might add: "Search your heart, for what you know to be true",
to paraphrase a bit from Star Wars.
And if I heard an angel Maya Angelou speaking from a tomb:
I would know I was hearing the poetry of a new day.
"Woman, why are your weeping."
Then she would quote from her poem:
You may write me down in history/
With your bitter, twisted lies,/
You may trod me in the very dirt/
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
(from "Still I rise")
"Mary"
Morning fragrance, the rolled stone, the angels....
The the last detail I want to address is,
how did Jesus say "Mary" when they met in the garden.
How did he say her name?
She didn't recognize him, and then he said her name
and "this little light of mine" went off in her heart.
How did he say it?
The usual preaching way is the dignified lordly "Mary"
like Scott Simon's measured tones on NPR
when he's interviewing somebody he likes:
"So Mary, in your latest book....."
Or there's the pastoral "Mary",
like Jesus is there to reassure her
and start active listening on the spot:
So, Mary, during what we're calling the "cross incident"
you felt abandoned, umm hmm, um hmm...
Or was he indignant: Mary - like,
why don't you recognize me?
Or cool: "Mary, yo" - hey Mary, it's me, what now....
How do you hear Jesus saying "Mary?"
Joy, surprise, indignation, gentle hello?
I imagine his voice full of laughter
restrained,
like he just pulled off a cosmic April-fools joke
which kind of surprised him too, when it worked.
But much deeper, as if his joy
at the wonder and humor of it all
is written by T.S. Eliot,
and when he says Mary, he's thinking of the naming of cats,
and how each cat has an effable, ineffable, effinineffable
deep and inscrutable singular name.
And it just pleases him so much
to be able to say her name again: "Mary."
And the shining surfaces of Mary's face and Jesus' face
turning toward each other,
Jesus delighted to see Mary, I think, and full of that
playful, twinkling sense of surprise but most deeply joy.
And Mary, surprised, and seeing
Jesus for the first time
in light of the resurrection, so different she didn't recognize him
the incredible and joyful possibilities flooding
into her consciousness, into her heart:
that place where she holds her hopes
and dearest commitments.
And here the story may become
completely our story.
How does Jesus say your name?
How does the Spirit of love, how does the Spirit of God
say your name, speaking life and hope to you?
And who are your angels?
And which stones need to be rolled away in your life?
And what is the fragrance of your morning,
the morning of surprise, love, and life?
