Be, Go, Tell, and See

  

What are we to do when the best news dawns upon us?

 

Genesis 1:1-2:4a [The Story of Creation] 
Exodus 14:10-31; 15:20-21 [Israel's deliverance at the Red Sea] 
Isaiah 55:1-11 [Salvation offered freely to all] 
Romans 6:3-11 
Psalm 114
Matthew 28:1-10
©2024 The Rev. Seth Olson

 

Holy God, let my words be your words and when my words are not your words, let your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen.

 

Early on the first day, Mary Magdalene sat in darkness. Her eyes were bleary, all her tears spent, so she just was. She was not alone though, there in the obscurity, Mary Magdalene sat with the other Mary. They spent yesterday, the Sabbath day, weeping and unable to eat or sleep. Whenever the woman from Magdala stopped sobbing long enough to lay down to sleep, her mind’s eye began replaying the tragic images: the soldiers mocking, the criminals groaning, and Jesus’ body collapsing. She could not stand to watch as he breathed his last on that horrible cross, so she had collapsed in a puddle of humanity before it’s gruesome shadow. There was nothing left for these women, except each other. They had put their hopes, their dreams, and their lives in him. Now he was dead. 

 

As the flood of emotions continued pouring over them, the proverbial vessel keeping them afloat, their faith, felt like it was being tossed and blown. The storm of the last two days raged onward, and they were sinking. Mary Magdalene in desperation suggested they go to the tomb. The other Mary thought, “Why? There’s nothing we can do. He’s dead. Are we going to stare at a sealed tomb?” 

 

Yet, she was too exhausted to disagree. Plus, maybe this would give them closure. Still in her depression and cynicism, the other Mary believed, “Nothing will deliver us from this hopelessness.” Early in the morning Mary and Mary floated on not buoyed by hope but drawn in by love for their teacher. They went to visit his grave, they went to be with him, they went to repay his love.

 

In the bleakest darkness, Mary and Mary passed the place of the skull, slowly nearing his tomb. As they grew closer, they heard the snoring and snickering of the guards whom the high priest had dispatched. As they began worrying about what they would do when the soldiers saw them, suddenly an earthquake startled the placid night. The entire area rumbled in the darkness. Just then, an angel blazed across the sky forcefully flinging wide the entrance to the tomb and landing gracefully on the large rock. The messenger’s appearance blinded those nearby like a lightning bolt. Mary and Mary hid their faces. Instead of a tremendous thunder clap, they heard the toppling of the guards. 

 

Trembling out of fear and exhaustion Mary and Mary lay prostrate on the ground. A sweet voice rang out in the dawning light, “Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for him who was crucified. He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples.” 

 

The women slowly rose. They timidly approached the gapping entrance. Mary Magdalene stepped inside to see the linens that once enveloped his body. The other Mary touched the massive stone, which had stood sentinel sealing in the Savior. “Where is he?” she thought, but before they could say anything, the messenger spoke once more. “He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.” The shock of this news puzzled and paralyzed the women for a moment, but as the joyful truth of the angel’s words dawned on Mary and Mary, they sprinted away from the surroundings of death.

 

They had never known such conflicting emotion. Fear, like a linen funeral wrapping was unraveling its grip on them, in its place was an all-enveloping joy. It was this overwhelming gladness that urged the women onward with reckless abandon through the darkened streets of Jerusalem. In the pre-dawn haziness, Mary Magdalene nearly ran into a figure. His outline, his aura, his presence were so familiar. Before the women could catch their collective breath, the mysteriously recognizable one spoke, “Greetings!” Immediately they knew.

 

He was alive. “Jesus is risen,” Mary Magdalene thought. He was living, breathing, and speaking to these most courageous disciples. They slowly approached him, took his feet, and worshipped him. The messenger had told the truth, then Jesus echoed the angel’s words, “Do not be afraid, go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.” 

 

Be, go, tell, and see. These were the simple commands of Our Risen Lord to these faithful ones. And, through their journey we now discover the fullness of this Good News—not just for them, but for all!

 

This Good News was first bad news though. And, on this most holy night, when earth and heaven are one, you may still be struggling. You might feel hopelessness like these women felt walking to the tomb. The storms of this life may still be shaking you. The wounds—the ones you have inflicted and the ones inflicted upon you—may not be fully healed. Tonight, everything is not magically erased. And yet, like Mary and Mary, tonight you came to the tomb with them. Remember that before they arrived, before the angel, before the encounter with Jesus, it seemed like everything had been lost—it was as though all they had was buried in the grave. 

 

Inside the tomb lay their broken dreams, hopes, and lives. Mysteriously on this holy night, time collapses, and with the women, all of our brokenness rests within that cavernous grave too. Our broken dreams, hopes, and lives—all we have done and left undone to wound or be wounded—all of it lay inside with the still body of Jesus. To approach the place of our brokenness requires revisiting our darkest moments, those actions we pray will never see the light of day, and those times when we did not do what we could have done. As we approach this shadowy space, it at first seems that Our Savior is dead, that hopelessness wins, and that our brokenness persists.

 

Yet, in the predawn we encounter not only a messenger, but our Savior. The angel from God brings light into the darkness and opens wide the place where all that we fear was buried. The tomb though is empty. All that may be keeping us feeling stuck or paralyzed—all of our woundedness, hopelessness, sinfulness, shame, and death—all these things are transformed. God transforms these things not by magic, but by us stepping into the shadow parts of ourselves. As our eyes adjust to the darkness of the deadliest places within us, we find that even here, especially here God’s love and light bring healing, restoration, and resurrection. Like those brave women, we are to walk into the tomb to see that our old ways no longer sustain us, then we must go onward to Galilee. On the way, we meet the Risen Lord who implores us to be, go, tell, and see.

 

First, we must be. More fully, we must be not afraid, like both the messenger and Jesus instructed. Being without fear requires us to practice courage as we encounter our shadow selves. This could be through therapy, confession (we call it the Rite of Reconciliation), a small group of trusted beloveds, or any other number of ways. When we realize though that nothing—and I mean absolutely nothing—will prevent God from loving us, we will have new courage to confront the tombs of our lives. 

 

We must go. Once we experience this transformation through God’s saving love, we cannot keep this good news to ourselves. We cannot keep Jesus in the Church, just like nothing can keep Jesus in the ground. We must leave here and tell others!

 

We must tell. We must share the good news with all whom we meet. Jesus is not in the grave, and neither is all that stuff that we keep locked away in our tombs of shame. Everything that we find wrong with our lives is not somehow magically fixed by the Resurrection, but once and for all we are certain that nothing can keep us from God. This is the good news. Nothing, not shame, not sin, not death, not a single thing keeps God from loving us.

 

We must see. Mary and Mary almost ran into him. They recognized him though, and they knelt down, touched his feet, and worshipped him. We too might almost run into Christ Jesus. We will meet the Risen One on the way to our own Galilee—to wherever it is in our lives that needs to know not the Good News but the Best News that God loves us without exception and without limit. He is in every stranger we meet and every friend too. He is in all of us for he has redeemed all of us. So, I encourage you to look for Christ everywhere!

 

The tomb is empty… empty of our sin, our shame, and our death. The tomb is empty of Our Lord. Christ is not here. Christ is risen. Be not afraid, go and tell the good news, and see the Risen Lord! Alleluia, alleluia Christ is Risen! The Lord is risen indeed! Amen.